Légitimement Mariés
by flute-player56
Summary: Marriage Law Fic. Fremione.Post Hogwarts,2000. Obviously Fred survived the Hogwarts Battle. Pairings leaning towards canon, but not entirely so. Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

**Les Pires Surprises:**

**The worst Surprise**

A swirling figure appeared out of mid-air, and a slightly panicking Kingsley Shacklebolt began to speak as soon as his mouth was fully formed.

"I'm sorry...I did everything that I could...outnumbered..."

He stopped attempting to speak and gasped a quick breath.

"Kingsley? What's the matter?"

The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix all cried out in alarm at the intrusion, despite the familiar face.

In spite of the fact that Harry had so impressively defeated Lord Voldemort in the spring of 1998, the order would occasionally convene for social events. Many of its members were friendly with one another, even when away from the order, and they enjoyed a good get together complete with the exceptional culinary talents of Molly Weasley.

Kingsley was still gabbling away nonsense until Arthur Weasley had the sense to hit him over the head, albeit gently. This calmed him down enough so that he was able to impart the two very swords that would result in the panic of the others, as opposed to alleviate it.

"Marriage Law"

At the sound of those words, silence dropped around the room. The knife that Molly had been using clattered to the floor, but no one dived under the table to pick it up. They all sat there, not moving, as if they had all been turned to stone.

"They wouldn't dare?" uttered Molly softly, her mind still not able to grasp the unexpected news.

"They have," said Kingsley, who was able to, at least, breathe normally now. His normally calm exterior and reassuring voice gave away every inch of the anger that he was feeling.

Quiet mutterings floated above the group as they attempted to come to terms with the new turn of events.

"It will be effective as of tomorrow morning. They plan to announce it in the 'Prophet'."

"But what do you mean by 'marriage law'? Do we have a certain amount of time to get married in?" said George, looking very pale, indeed.

"Do we have a certain person that we have to get married to?" continued Fred, orange freckles more prominent than ever on his now pale skin.

Everyone hushed themselves in anticipation of his answer. Hermione began to get a hollow feeling in her ears, as though the sounds that she was hearing were coming from somewhere distant. It felt like all the blood had drained from her head in the small space of time it took for Kingsley to report all the information that he knew.

"You get a choice in who to marry...initially. There will be a specific time-frame in which you will marry, and conceive your children. If you do not comply, your wand will be snapped and you will be forced to live as a muggle. An outcast. The ministry will make sure that you are not welcomed back into the community."

The feeling in Hermione's ear intensified as she begun to feel light-headed. Black spots appeared in her vision as she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself.

"How long do couples have, to marry?" Hermione heard Arthur try and prod more answers out of Kingsley.

"Thirty days"

The darkness completely covered Hermione's vision and she heard no more.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

The buzzing grew louder in Hermione's ears. It was like she had been submerged within the walls of a beehive.

She heard Molly's anxious voice cry out from the side.

"She's awake?"

There was a scuffling sound that was made across the room as Molly made her way over to Hermione.

Hermione, on the other hand, merely tried to get her eyelids to open. Step one was to have them fixed in that position, while step two was to get her eyeballs to focus onto what was going on around her,

'What happened?' she thought as she felt her heart race in apprehension.

She tried to lift her head from the soft place on which it was resting, however, she was greeted by a throbbing sensation and pain in said location. Reflexively she raised a hand to clap her forehead as she lowered it back down, but this only served to cause her more pain. As her hand hit her cranium, she felt an enormous lump underneath her fingertips.

'This must be what hurts' she thought with all the insight that was required to match-up pairs of freshly laundered socks.

"Why does my head hurt?" she asked the room at large before anyone else had the chance to say anything.

Molly, who had been hovering nearby in worry, was the one to answer.

"You hit your head on the table..." she replied, hesitating slightly before finished her explanation, "just as you fainted. Or rather, it was because you fainted."

It was at the mention of the word 'fainted' that Hermione's memories reached the fore of her brain, and she remembered the exact reason why she had lost consciousness and subsequently hit her head.

Very slowly, and with the aid of Molly, Hermione lifted herself from the sofa into a slightly more dignified sitting position.

She completely disregarded her injury and continued her thought process, verbally instead of internally.

"How can they do this to us? Surely there had to be some kind of loophole."

"Mr Weasley," said Harry, speaking for the first time, "Did you know anything about this?"

Mr Weasley's face held a facial expression that would have been otherwise appropriate at the sick-bed of a close friend, or perhaps at a funeral. He shook his head.

"This must have been kept very secret. I've never heard of such a thing."

"I bet it's a Death Eater thing," said Ron suddenly. "Now that they're precious Dark Lord is gone they'll be wanting to take control again. This way, they can take control of us, and any future generations. I bet it'll scare loads of people shitless."

He growled in frustration, words seemingly not enough to express his anger anymore.

"First things first," said Bill, voice commanding authority as he spoke with the logic of a curse-breaker. "We need to get a copy of the law in its entirety, and see exactly what we are dealing with. Maybe there is a way that we can get out of this mess."


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to my beta The Weasley Way  
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**Chapter 2: Trouver un moyen de sortir**

**Finding a way out**

"There has to be a way out of this!"

Hermione had been repeating these very words almost the entire evening, and with each recitation, her voice had grown exponentially more frantic and hysterical.

Through his innumerable connections at the Ministry (people who merely wanted to be seen having a conversation with 'The Boy Who Lived'), Harry had managed to procure a copy of the marriage act, shortly after the entire Wizarding population in the United Kingdom had been informed of it.

"The rules are made very clear Hermione. Every person between the ages of seventeen and forty-nine must marry and produce three magical children. Being a muggleborn, your condition is that you must marry someone who is of at least fifty percent magical heritage."

Hermione moaned in frustration.

"What if no one wants to marry me and the ministry pairs me up with some old pervert? What will I do? How could I live like that?"

"Relax Hermione. We'll find a way to make this work, for all of us. You're not the only one that has to find a spouse."

Hermione calmed down slightly after Ron reminded her of the fact that there were others in the room who were in the same predicament that she was.

"Right," said Arthur, after a long time of pouring over all the words on the parchment, "Until we can find a way out of this, we will have to pair up. The least that we can do is keep the couples within the order, or within our group of trusted people."

He pulled a blank piece of parchment from the stack of pages on the table in front of him. He wrote down a few names, reading them aloud as he went down the list.

"Ginny is already with Harry."

Hermione looked up just in time to see the couple look at each other, sappy expressions adorning their faces in the most sickening manner.

Percy piped up from his place opposite his father.

"I guess now would be the most opportune time to tell you that I am engaged to be married."

The twins turned to look at each other, identical, evil grins lighting up their faces.

"Ahhh, so is dear Penny joining the brethren that is our family?" said Fred with a tone of false joy.

"No," said Percy smugly.

"So it will be the darling Cornelius Fudge himself that will be joining us? Mind you, I do think he is a tad too old..." continued George with the most serious facial expression.

"Except you do need someone to be the 'fun parent'..." said Fred in an equally serious tone.

The surrounding family members snorted their laughter into their hands, while Percy changed to a rather unattractive shade of pink around the ears.

"Her name is Audrey Winterbourne. She was in the year below me, but was homeschooled," replied Percy in a stiff voice.

"Congratulations Percy! You should invite her for Sunday lunch this week, and let her meet the whole family," said Molly. Up until she had suggested this she had spent the entire time muttering under her breath about what her grandchildren would turn out to be, while Arthur was diligently ignoring the jibes of his children as he wrote down the names 'Percy' and 'Audrey'.

Arthur looked up to see a still chuckling Ron.

"Ron, you're next. Have you any news to share?"

This sobered Ron up immediately. He began twisting the corner of his shirt around his finger as he stammered out a response.

"Well...I suppose there is Luna. Luna Lovegood, that is. I'm willing to give it a crack, if she is"

The twins looked as though Christmas had come early for them, but any glee they felt was immediately squashed by one look from their mother.

"Luna is a lovely girl," she said in a firm tone that suggested no one was to argue the matter.

Molly Weasley had hardly come to terms with the recent events, however, she decided to do what she had done for the majority of her adult life, and that was to do the best with what she had.

"Charlie is exempt from the law, isn't he," continued Molly, peering over her husband's shoulder at the piece of paper that was seemingly deciding the fate of her children.

"Yes," replied Arthur, not sure whether to feel grateful for that small mercy, or whether he should feel angry that he should have to feel the first emotion.

"Just Fred, George and Hermione left," said Bill from his place next to his father.

"Aren't you still with Angie, George?" asked Hermione innocently.

"We were," replied George with a frown, "But I'm not sure about us. We could give it another shot, but I'll have to speak to Ange first."

Molly looked over at Hermione with an expectant, but kind expression across her face.

"Is there anyone you have in mind, Hermione, dear?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Fred?" Molly turned to her son with the same look that she had given Hermione.

"No, mum," said Fred glumly.

There was an awkward pause that begged to be filled, before Molly spoke with a sigh.

"Well, Hermione, is there anyone in your age group that is available?"

The group went through a list of names. Harry and Ron's scowls increased with every name that was suggested.

"Neville?"

Nope. He's been with Hannah Abbott for ages."

"Zacharias Smith?"

"Not in a million years."

"Dean Thomas?"

A short pause was evident before Hermione spoke in a very small voice that suggested that she had lost almost all hope.

"Muggleborn. Kingsley said muggleborns are not allowed to marry other muggleborns."

Fred had heard this comment and his head immediately snapped up from where it had been resting in his hands. An inexplicable feeling of anger was coursing through his veins at the mere thought of Hermione with one of those gits.

"Huh?"

Fred had not realised that he was so deep in thought. His mother had been trying to get his attention for at least the past minute.

"I said, do you have any potential girls that you could marry? Anyone that you went to school with? Worked with?"

Molly had winced at the word 'marry' as though even the quiet sound of it, from her own lips, was enough to cause physical pain.

Fred shook his head as he had before, only to hear the voice of his twin issuing from the other end of the kitchen.

"Yes, he does. There's always Hermione."

The pair looked up at one another in shock while Moll cried out, aghast.

"I didn't even know they were together!"

"We're not, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione quickly, coming out of her shocked stupor to look at George who was now smirking.

'Why is George smirking at me?' thought Hermione, while Fred shot his twin a look that screamed, 'you're going to pay for this later'.

Arthur looked between Hermione and Fred. Molly had her hands over her mouth, a look of sheer terror visible in her eyes, the only part of her face that was not covered with her mouth. The other members of the Weasley clan had all leaned forward in their seats in anticipation.

"I...I..." Hermione stuttered, "I...don't know."

"It _would_ solve a few problems," said Ginny ticking them off her fingers as she spoke, "You would be marrying someone that you know, that is in the order. We would also only need to have one wedding instead of two..."

She trailed off, awaiting Hermione's response.

Hermione on the other hand had completely ignored Ginny, and was boring into Fred's eyes with her own, desperately trying to gauge his reaction on the matter.

When all that she could gain was a lack of (open) hostility, she looked towards her future mother- and father-in-law and slowly nodded her head, ignoring the vehement protests from almost every fibre of her being.

After all, it was the only sensible way out.

She would be safe and secure. With the joke shop, Fred would be able to provide for her. Beneath his mocking exterior, she could see that he was just as loyal and caring as the other members of his family. He would be suitable, and she would be able to grow to care for him, if nothing else.

Hermione looked out of the corner of her eye, waiting with bated breath for Fred to show some kind of emotion.

He dipped his head forwards once, expression pensive, and Hermione let out the breath that she was holding. Despite herself, Hermione could not help but let out a sigh of relief.

While Arthur inked their names into the parchment, Molly immediately ran forward to hug her new daughter-in-law. She whispered words of comfort to the girl about what a wonderful husband her son would be, and what a beautiful wedding they would have.

Hermione, however, was only able to dimly register that Mrs Weasley was speaking to her at all. Her own brain was already rushing forward, past the wedding, to the kind of life that she would be forced to live at the cold-hearted hands of the Ministry of Magic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: L'épidémie du scarabée  
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**The plague of the beetle**

"How dare she? The evil COW!"

It was the day after each of the Weasley family members had been paired up and every occupant of the Burrow was either cowering in their bedrooms, or creeping around the house, attempting to carry out their morning routine as best as possible. This was exceedingly difficult given the performance that Hermione was giving in the Burrow's cramped kitchen.

"To think I let her go! Should have carted her off to Azkaban still in the jar!" she muttered the last part underneath her breath, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

From the ranting that was going on, Fred gathered that this was the handiwork of Rita Skeeter.

"WHAT BUSINESS DOES SHE HAVE GOING ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE? JUST BECAUSE FRED OWNS A JOKE-SHOP, IT DOESN'T MEAN THAT MY WEDDING WILL BE A JOKE!"

He surmised that it was about the Marriage Law, or rather, more specifically about himself and Hermione getting hitched because of it.

From the confines of his and George's old bedroom, Fred was just about able to make out the mumbling of Harry, who was endeavouring to calm Hermione down. So far he had not been successful, but Fred had other worries.

He was at a loss about what to do. He felt that he should at least try to talk to her about it, not least because the article partly concerned him as well.

At the end of his internal debate, he decided that the best course of action would be to actually read the article in question. Then he would be able to ascertain his own feelings towards the subject.

He snuck down the wooden stairs, being careful not to make them creak too much, and alert the others to his presence.

Luckily for him, a copy of that morning's 'Prophet' was lying on the sofa, waiting for him. He picked it up and sat on the aforementioned sofa, thumbing through the pages until he found the one that held the offending article.

_WAR HERO FALLS FOR PRANKSTER_

_In the wake of the recent Marriage Law, many of-age witches and wizards have been left incensed that the Ministry of Magic would ever feel the need to evoke such a controversial piece of legislation._

_War-hero, Hermione Granger, is sure to be one of those people, for more reasons than one. Side-kick to The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, she has in recent days become engaged to none other than Frederick Weasley, owner of the insanely popular 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes' joke shop located in Diagon Alley._

_Many seem to be amazed that Granger has fancied herself such a practical joker, with Warty Harris saying that if she 'lightened up anymore, she would fly away'._

_This even would have come as a low blow to Potter's other crony, Ronald Weasley, who had reportedly been holding a flame for the Gryffindor Princess since their relatively carefree school-days._

_No word yet as to how the brothers are dealing with the sordid-love triangle, or whether the Golden Trio's friendship will be able to weather and withstand this latest storm._

Fred had reached the end of the article.

To say that he was furious would have been an understatement of the highest order. He was absolutely livid, and he finally understood why Hermione was serenading the others thusly. He, himself, wanted to blast the corkscrew curls from Rita Skeeter's babbling, blonde head.

Fred rose from his seat, ready to attack, however, at that precise moment, Ron walked into the room.

"Oh no, not you too!" he cried in exasperation, just as Fred began to open his mouth.

A blush crept up Fred's neck and he calmed down enough to be able to sit back down on the sofa, albeit calmer, but still fuming.

"We know that she is the vilest woman to ever inhabit the Earth, but for once, just let her be. Think! This is only the worst that she can do."

The skin on Fred's neck began to fade as his anger dissipated. Ron was right, it was indeed the worst that Rita could do, apart from banging on the door of their home, coercing quotes out of them with her acid-green quill. However, these thoughts did not completely assuage Fred. He did not like the thought of that woman vilifying Hermione about something that ought not to be in the newspaper at all, no matter how famous being Harry's friend made her.

It was not Hermione's fault that she was being forced to marry him. Well, she was not really forced, but they still had no choice.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Both Hermione and Fred spent the day in a bit of a huff, with Hermione being the more frustrating of the two to be around. She would go around slamming down books, picking them up again, muttering under her breath. Her attention could never be held for very long.

This was directly contrary to Fred who had completely fixated his brain on himself. Not even George was able to rouse him from his stupor.

These attitudes had not changed around the time of dinner. This would have been alright, except for the fact that this was not a normal family dinner. Tonight's dinner would include all of the future spouses. Everyone would be sleeping over tonight, then, in the morning the girls would all get up early and head off for dress shopping.

Percy and Audrey were planning to be married first, considering that they were the first ones to get engaged, before the law. There was a lot of preparation to attend to in that miniscule amount of time.

As was the case before the Quidditch World Cup in the summer of 1994, the Burrow's kitchen was ill-equipped to deal with such a volume of people. Mrs Weasley had ordered her husband, and her sons, to set up tables outside, and smother in area in heating charms to keep the cold, February weather at bay. Even with the new configuration, everyone was still forced to sit elbow-to-elbow, and make whatever conversation they could with those sitting nearest.

Each couple was purposely placed together, and for most this was not an issue. Hermione, on the other hand, had Fred on her right, and Audrey on her other side.

"You must be Percy's fiancée, Audrey. I'm Fred's fiancée, Hermione."

Hermione had almost choked on the words 'Fred's fiancée' as they left her lips, however, Audrey, thankfully, did not seem to notice this.

"Yes, I am, but please, call me Dee. Audrey sounds so serious and stuffy."

Hermione had to force herself to suppress a giggle. She did not know how Percy had managed to snag this fun-loving and beautiful girl.

The waves of her long, golden hair shone, and her blue eyes sparkled under the soft light that was streaming through the windows of the house, lighting up their scrumptious meal.

Hermione looked down at her lap, thinking of her own hair. It was bushy and a muddy brown colour. It was not luminescent and golden. Her eyes were an equally muddy brown, not a beautiful blue. She had nothing to offer Fred in terms of her physical appearance. Come to think of it, she had very little to offer to Fred at all.

Dee continued speaking about her wedding plans in her bright and bubbly voice, while Hermione quietly listened, occasionally making sounds of agreement.

Dinner had never gone by so slowly for Hermione.

* * *

><p><strong>Again many thanks to my beta, The Weasley Way, for all her wonderful work, and also to AllFredWeasley's for helping with the translations of the chapter titles.<strong>

**I would love to hear what all you lovely readers think of the story so far :)  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Un coup de main**

**A helping hand**

Hermione squelched together the eyelids of her already shut eyes even tighter. The sunlight coming through the bedroom the bedroom window was like flood-lights on a sports-field.

She felt one tiny second of respite when the light was dimmed for a moment; however she knew that the feeling was doomed. She felt a heavy weight pounce onto her, and Ginny's voice screeched into her ear.

"Wake up! We're going dress shopping!"

Hermione rolled herself onto her side while Ginny moved herself over to sit at the foot of the bed.

How could Hermione forget that today was the day in which she was going to be choosing her wedding dress for a wedding that she did not really care to have?

Her eyes adjusted to the light that was streaming through her eyelids, and she contemplated the idea of opening her eyes and greeting the day.

"Hurry up and get ready," said Ginny, now standing from her place, "Mum's waiting downstairs and she's starting to get a bit frazzled."

With that command, Ginny left the room. Hermione groaned and rolled over once more.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Madame Malkin was completely run off her feet. The tiny store was brimming with soon-to-be brides from all over Britain. Each was looking to buy their own special wedding dress.

When the horde of present and future Weasley women entered the store, Madame Malkin paled considerably before delegating them to a small corner of the store while she finished attending to the other customers.

In a relatively short space of time, the group was browsing through racks and stacks of dresses, shoes and accessories.

Hermione was having a much more difficult time getting into the spirit of things. She had never had a 'great vision' for her wedding that she had spent a lifetime dreaming about.

She was not quite sure what her dream wedding entailed, but she was sure it included marrying someone that she loved. This was considering the fact that she and Fred had not even spoken since they had agreed to marry each other.

Angelina was only having a slightly less difficult time that what Hermione was, so they paired up and agreed to help one another in their search for a wedding dress.

Angelina had held up at least a dozen dresses for Hermione to see, but not one had yet caught the brunette's eye. Angelina was getting impatient with every excuse that Hermione threw back at her.

"Too girly."

"Too lacy."

"Too frilly."

"Too plain."

Angelina grew exceptionally exasperated with Hermione's monotonous stream of complaints. She, herself, had found her dress long ago, by this point.

Her dress was a figure-hugging crimson red number. The skirt flared at the bottom to reveal the most delicate white and gold coloured lace that frothed out. Against Angelia's dark skin it looked heart-stoppingly beautiful.

Luna had picked out a dress in 'sun colours, for luck'. With the tires of ruffles, and giant yellow rose under the bust, she looked more or less, like a giant, sun-coloured hair scrunchie.

Despite Dee's decidedly exuberant personality she had picked the most demure dress out of all. An ivory skirt with a beaded bodice was all that was needed to make Dee shine on her fast-approaching wedding day.

Hermione thought that Ginny had picked the most beautiful dress of all of them, and this was punctuated by Mrs Weasley's tears that had started the moment that Ginny stepped out of the dressing room. The dress even matched the olive green of the bridesmaid's dresses that Ginny had chosen.

Vines of green lace edged up the silky white underskirt, and around the bodice. It gently peeked out from under the organza overlay of the skirt, giving off a very elegant, but modern look.

Everybody else had not only picked a wedding dress, but bridesmaids dresses and accessories as well. Hermione, much to the chagrin of Madame Malkin and he shopping buddies, was still aimlessly wandering around the store, not knowing where to look next.

To say that everybody was getting crabby, was an understatement.

"Hermione, dear," said Mrs Weasley in the calmest voice that she could muster, "everyone else is getting rather hungry. Why don't we go and have something to eat, then we can continue the search for your dress after lunch, when we are all refreshed and recharged?"

Hermione meekly nodded her acquiescence, and the group stumbled down Diagon Alley to a cafe that was open, a little way from the other clothing store, 'Twilfit and Tattings'.

Despite all of Hermione's trepidation and insecurities about the marriage law, she managed to find her wedding dress within a second of entering 'Twilfit and Tattings'.

Her eyes raked over the whole shop as they entered the store and immediately spotted the ivory creation. The mannequin did its beauty no justice.

A silk and organza skirt billowed out impressively, while the ruched bodice with silver accents would eventually cling to her every curve deliciously. The hand-made straps were crafted entirely of crystal beads, and would grace her shoulders in the most elegant manner.

Everything else was wiped from her mind as she strode over to the sales assistant, and asked if she could try it on.

Hermione did not even bother looking in the mirror of the change-room. She just pulled back the curtain and stepped forward into what would become her family in a few short weeks.

Ginny gasped while Molly put her hand on her mouth; tears gathered at the corner of her eyelids.

"You look beautiful," said a very pregnant Fleur. Molly had sent her a message, asking for her help when she saw that Hermione was going to be very resistant towards choosing a wedding dress. Fleur had been very obliging, thus her sudden appearance in the store.

"Fred will be absolutely gobsmacked when he sees you," said Angelina with a very wide smile.

That was when Hermione's mind was jolted back to the exact purpose of today's shopping expedition.

'I have to talk to him..." thought Hermione, "We are going to be married, we can't do that without at least talking to each other first.'

Hermione took the dress off and paid for it. It was slightly above her price range, but the effort that she went through to find it made it worth it. It made her achieve what she thought to be impossible. It made her feel beautiful.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"Hi Fred," said Hermione in a low voice.

Hermione walked over to where Fred was sitting beneath a giant oak tree in the garden of the Burrow.

"Hey Hermione," he replied in an equally low voice.

Hermione sat herself next to Fred, and for a few minutes, they sat in silence, watching the fireflies make pretty patterns against the darkness. Hermione smiled every time that she saw a gnome trip over its own feet and fall flat on its face.

"Sooo," said Fred, trying to break up the awkwardness, "I heard that you and the other girls went shopping for wedding dresses today.

"Yeah," replied Hermione as though the event meant no great deal to her.

"Cool. Did you pick out something nice?" said Fred, in a cheerful voice.

"Yes," replied Hermione, as she nervously shredded leaves into a pile in front of her crossed legs. She tried to match Fred's energy. She did not want to be a whingy and whiny wife before they were even actually married.

"Oh good," said Fred is a voice that was leaning slightly towards the cavalier, "You can tell me if this matches it."

Perplexed Hermione looked over to where Fred was rummaging around in his pockets. Out of one, he pulled out a small, black velvet box.

He opened the box to Hermione's gasp. Nestled in-between the soft fabric was a simple gold ring, topped with a single, but nonetheless impressively sized diamond ring.

"Oh, Fred. It's beautiful."

"Hermione, I know that this is not the best of circumstances, but would you be willing to become my wife."

"Yes, Fred, I will."

Fred guided the ring onto her finger before putting single kiss on the cheek that was closest to him.

"Thank you," said Hermione, the place where he put the kiss was left burning, but she spoke with more confidence than what she had before.

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to be my - for lack of a better way to put this - plus one, for Percy and Dee's wedding?"

Fred chuckled at Hermione's use of language.

"Sure, I would like that...but only if you would be my 'plus one' for Ron and Luna's wedding."

Hermione giggled out a yes, before letting out an almost inaudible sigh of relief.


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is a bit short, but i'm working on making the next couple a lot longer. **

**Hope you enjoy, i would love to hear what you think :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: <strong>**La premiére de nombreuse**

**The first of many**

Despite the cool, winter air, Sunday dawned bright and sunny. It was the 20th of February, and the first of many weddings in the Weasley Family.

George and Angelina were next to wed, on the 27th. Ron and Luna were after that on Ron's 20th birthday. March 7 would be the date for herself and Fred. Finally, Ginny and Harry had claimed the 12th of March as their own.

There were a lot of things that had needed to be achieved in the days between dress shopping and this morning. Hermione, along with several other family members, had considerably lightened their workload at work, so that they could be around to help in any way that they could. The women had been busy baking and storing as much food as the little house could hold. The men, on the other hand, were kept very busy, de-gnoming, de-weeding and de-cluttering the garden.

"Just because they're a bit sooner than what we would have liked, it does not mean that you all can't have beautiful weddings," Mrs Weasley had taken to saying at a rather annoying frequency.

In the preceding days, a tent, not too dissimilar from the one at Bill and Fleur's wedding, had been erected in the yard of the Burrow. Ginny had taken great pride in decorating it in such as way that would be easy to manipulate and change to suit the themes of each of the weddings.

At the present it was decorated entirely in white and pale blue, so that it matched the sky outside perfectly.

Whilst various family members were running around like headless chickens, making sure that everything was in place, Hermione and Ginny were in the house, upstairs, getting themselves and Dee ready.

They pulled her long, golden waves into spiralling ringlets. They piled some of it onto the top of her head, and let some cascade down her slender shoulders.

Ginny moved her hands with great dexterity around Dee's face; gently applying the required make up (not that she needed much, in Hermione's opinion).

The look was complete when Dee put on her dress. The satin skimmed over her body beautifully, and caused her mother to burst into tears when she entered the room to share a quiet moment with her beloved daughter.

Hermione and Ginny left the room, giving mother and daughter some privacy. Ginny swiftly moved down the stairs to her own room, leaving Hermione alone at the top of the stairs. Careful not to slip in her brand-new, pale blue bridesmaid's shoes, she descended the stairs and moved into the kitchen, deciding that a drink of water would perhaps calm her nerves.

Still focused on her feet, she walked into the room without paying attention to anyone else who might have been in there. Therefore she was a little shocked to find Fred, who had also been going to get himself a glass of water.

His back had been towards her, so he did not know that she was approaching until she took one steadying breath and spoke.

"Hi, Fred."

He turned around with swiftness, almost choking on the water that he has holding in his mouth.

"Hey, Hermione," he spluttered out, when he made sure that it was who he thought it was.

Hermione waited before she spoke again, allowing Fred the time to finish coughing up the water from his lungs.

"That jacket looks nice. Is it new?"

Hermione remembered the dress robes he had worn at Bill and Fleur's. They had done very little to impress the Veela cousins, but these (if it were even possible) were even more gaudy than the first.

"Thanks," said Fred, as he felt the tips of his ears redden in what was, no doubt, a very obvious blush, "You're looking rather nice yourself. Audrey really knows how to style others."

It was Hermione's turn to redden.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "fortunately your mum was able to heal the lump on my head. I can't believe that I fainted. You must think me to be such a wimp!"

Fred hastily re-arranged his features into a kind smile.

"I don't actually," he said to her, "you're certainly brave enough to be married to me and put up with my antics."

The blush did not leave Hermione's cheeks, and Fred did not stop talking either.

"This law is absolute bollocks, but I would rather marry you, someone that I know, a friend, rather than a complete stranger who would only want me for my money and my fame."

Despite the heat in her cheeks, Hermione gave Fred a small smile.

"Me too," she said, "I have to help Dee now, but I'll see you later?"

Fred nodded and left the house out the back door, joining his brothers, and helping guests to their seats.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Au milieu d'un hiver maussade**

**In the bleak midwinter**

The remainder of the Weasley Weddings passed relatively quickly. Hermione noticed that time tended to speed along when you least wanted or needed it to.

Being around the other family members was becoming almost unbearable, and Hermione could see that she was not the only one that was feeling it. Tempers seemed to be shorter than Ron's pyjama pants.

Despite the omnipresent tension, everybody managed to get everything done for each of the weddings. Indeed, the time it took for everyone to get ready on the day of a wedding had significantly decreased. There were far fewer individuals bumping into each other on the stairs owing to the sharp increase in practise they were getting.

Even though everything was running like clockwork, Hermione still felt an enormous sense of dread and apprehension. When she thought about everything that was going on, she would often liken it to being sentenced to the gallows. It began with a long walk while being watched by hundreds of people, to a man dressed entirely in black. It was almost sure to end her life as she knew it; its effects were permanent, and completely undesirable. Worst of all was that Hermione felt as though there was no one that she could talk to. After all, who would want to listen to her moan and groan about her own misfortunes when everyone that she saw was happy? They were looking on their wedding day as one of the best days of their lives. Hermione could not say that she felt anything along those lines.

It was only during the brief lull after George and Angelina's wedding, that any light was shed on the matter. Ginny and Hermione were sitting cross-legged on Hermione's bed, facing each other and chatting, just as they always had done, even during the easy days of Hogwarts. Hermione would always inwardly scowl whenever she thought about the fights she had had with Ron, or the times when she would worry about her grades. It all seemed so easy, and completely irrelevant to her now.

"I've lost count of the number of silencing charms that people had forgotten to put up around her in the last few days alone!" Hermione patiently explained to her friend, "Who's going to want to sit and around and listen to my whining?"

Ginny had turned a very faint pink colour at Hermione's first comment, but Hermione apparently did not seem to notice it. She was far too busy nervously picking the lint from the corner of her quilt to notice anything.

"You know," said Ginny, as she returned to her normal colouring, "there is one person that you can talk to about your wedding woes."

"Who?" asked Hermione, looking up suddenly, blinking rapidly like she was looking directly into the sun.

"You can talk to Fred, you know, your _fiancé_," Ginny replied as though she were speaking to someone who was very simple.

"Oh," said Hermione, instantly deflating.

"What do you even talk about when you go to other people's weddings? The weather?"

She gestured towards the sludge that was mashed onto the ground thanks to the slightly warmer air of spring. Hermione shrugged her shoulders at this.

"We mostly talk about wedding stuff. We both liked the candied wedding favours at Neville and Hannah's, so we are using something similar for our own. Fred wanted to make them at the shop," said Hermione frowning slightly at the last part of what she said. "But I absolutely refused to take the chance."

Ginny had grown very impatient with Hermione by this point, and cut her off rather abruptly.

"Hermione, can you tell me what Fred's favourite food is?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head.

"Favourite colour?"

"No."

"Can you tell me anything about my brother?"

Hermione looked over very meekly at Ginny.

"Ummm...he co-owns a joke shop...he has a twin...named George...and you're his sister."

Ginny shook her head in complete exasperation and annoyance.

"Hermione, you have to _talk_ to him. Who knows, you might find that you have something in common after all."

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Fred Weasley had a problem, and for once in his life there was no magical solution to it. He could not avoid it.

The problem in question had a mind of its own. Literally. It walked, it talked, it ate, it lived and it breathed. It even had a name: Hermione Granger, soon-to-be Hermione Weasley.

He did not know what to do. He did not know what to say. Should he even say anything at all?

She couldn't possibly feel the same way that he did. Especially, when she so vehemently opposed the law, and was very careful to avoid him at all costs. All that they had talked about was stupid wedding details.

What colour should the flowers be?

Did he want little tartlets or sausage rolls as h'ordeuvres?

Like all the family weddings before them, they would be getting married at the Burrow. That was one thing he was very glad to have sorted out early on. He could not even fathom the thought of having to search for a place with Hermione providing constant commentary about the pros and cons of each place.

She drove him crazy, in more ways than one.

"Hey, Fred, can I talk to you for a second?"

Fred looked up to see Hermione approaching from the house. Great, more talking.

"Sure Hermione," he replied, putting down the bunch of flowers that he had been arranging for the wedding.

As Hermione got nearer, he noticed that he was paying attention more to the things that made Hermione herself. The way in which she would knot her fingers together when she was unsure about something. Or perhaps, slightly more noticeable was the way that her hips would move as she walked, or the way her lips moved when she spoke.

"The arrangements are looking very nice," she complimented Fred when she had reached him. "You seem to have a great talent for flower arranging."

Fred shrugged.

"It's not so much that it's flowers, but rather the overall art of it. Did you know that George and I designed all the packages and displays for the shop?"

"I didn't know that. In that case, you must get a lot of designing practice."

"It's how I make my living," he replied, "but I assume that you didn't come out into the snow just to admire my earth-shattering skills."

"You're as modest as ever, but you're right. I came to tell you that I received a letter from my parents today. They'll **b**e arriving tomorrow for the wedding."

Despite their playful comments earlier, she gave Fred a beady stare.

"It will be the first time that you have been properly introduced to my parents. Promise me that you won't play any pranks, or do anything stupid?"

"Err...sure."

Hermione visibly relaxed, shoulders drooping down as the tired muscles let go. Fred noticed this and desperately wished that he could do something that would allow her to relax. But he had never given her so much as a neck rub, and he thought that in the present climate, such a thing might seem a bit too forward.

"Good. They say that they're taking the news of our 'marriage' well, but we'll only really know when we see them."

"Uhh...ok."

"I'll let you get back to the flowers, they really do look nice."

Fred stood there, ignoring the flowers and smiling inwardly, as she retreated back to the house.


	7. Chapter 7

**I hope that you are enjoying the story so far. I would love to hear what you think, so please, review :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: <strong>**Se réajuster nonchalamment en public  
><strong>**Casually readjusting oneself in public**

Hermione had seen the Burrow clean before, but what she had never seen was the Burrow stay clean for so long.

There was no pile of shoes at the back door. There were no mud-tracks on the floor inside the house. Everyone had simply gotten into the habit of taking their shoes off, and putting them away. There were no piles of washing in their respective baskets, littering the floor of the bedrooms. Everyone had learned to put their clothes away where they belonged. However, Hermione suspected that this could have been due to the addition of wives who would tell their husbands in no uncertain terms exactly what would happen should they not do as they were bid.

Hermione looked down towards the bottom of the long piece of parchment in her hand. It had been a few days of very hectic word towards her own wedding. The only major task that was not yet ticked off was the arrival of her parents.

Henry and Marian Granger were staying with the Weasley's where they would be able to meet the entire Weasley family properly (sans Charlie who had not been able to take time off from work), but also be able to attend the wedding of their beloved daughter. Mr Weasley was going to pick them up from the muggle train station, and then side-along apparate them to the Burrow. Much to the amusement of Hermione, he had been the most eager of the family when it came to volunteering for this task.

Hermione nervously tried to smooth down her hair, even though she knew her efforts to be futile. She just needed to do something with her hands.

She sat down on one of the sofas in the Burrow's sitting room, putting her list down next to her. She glanced at down at her words, most of them crossed out as a result of their achievement.

She closed her eyes in an attempt of relaxation. There was, after all, only two more days until her wedding.

She had only been resting for a few seconds when she felt a heavy weight rest down beside her. Her eyes instantly fluttered open, and upon focusing, she saw that it was Fred next to her.

"Is there anything that you need help with?" he asked her, glancing down at the parchment.

"There is nothing that we can do yet. The only thing that we can do is wait for my parents. Your Dad should be bringing them any second."

It was then that Hermione saw what she thought was a flicker of fear on Fred's face.

"Will they like me?" Fred asked, his face not as robust as it usually was.

Hermione laughed at him.

"Of course not!" she replied.

A look of absolute horror was briskly taking over Fred's already pained facial expression. Hermione, upon seeing this, began to laugh heartily.

"Why not? What have you told them? They don't think I'm some kind of escaped criminal, do they?"

"No, you goose. The only reason why they might not like you, is because we're getting married. You're going to be the one that is taking away their baby."

"Oh," was all that Fred was able to say before he and Hermione head the cracking sound, so distinctive to apparition.

Hermione instantly bounded off the sofa, and flung open the door. She threw herself into the waiting arms of a woman whose hair would have been as bushy as Hermione's own, had it not been placed into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck. Her face was almost the spitting image of Hermione's, save for the odd laugh line. This must have been Hermione's mother.

Hermione then leapt into the arms of the man standing next to her mother. This balding man must have been her father. He had a kind, round face, and he was the picture of vitality, from his laughing blue eyes, to his jolly red cheeks and smiling mouth.

When he saw his daughter, he let out an almighty laugh. Even from his nervous position inside the house, Fred could not help but let out a chuckle, for no one could help but laugh when Henry Granger laughed.

Fred watched this scene unfold before him with a sense of joy. At least they did not look angry with her, or more importantly, him.

"Fred. Fred? Come out here and meet my parents."

Fred snapped out of his trance, and followed the sound of Hermione's voice.

"Mum, Dad. This is my fiancé, Fred. Fred, this is my mother Marian, and my father, Henry."

Fred shook hands with the both of them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," he said to them, smiling broadly.

"There's more than one of you, isn't there?" said Marian, waving a finger at Fred, who looked back at her with great confusion.

Henry chuckled at his wife, before explaining her to his future son-in-law.

"What Marian means, is that the last time we were in Diagon Alley together, you had a look-alike with you."

Comprehension dawned on Fred.

"Yes. I have a twin brother, George."

"That's it!" said Marian, laughing vivaciously.

"Right-o," said Mr Weasley as (to the astonishment of Henry and Marian), he began to levitate the Granger's luggage. "We had better get inside, out of the weather. It does not quite feel like spring yet, besides, I'm sure that Molly will be happy to see you both again."

Mr Weasley ushered Hermione's parents inside, with Hermione and Fred following closely behind.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

If the Burrow had been crowded before, Hermione surmised that it would be close to breaking point now.

The backyard had once again been smothered in warming charms, and the wooden tables would soon be receiving a work-out under Mrs Weasley's scrumptious cooking.

"Is there anything that i can help with?" Marian asked, wide-eyed as she watched Molly magic the food about the cramped kitchen.

"Oh, don't worry yourself about anything dear. I've got everything under control here, but perhaps you could check on the others outside. I they have the tables ready, I can start to put the food out, ready for us to eat."

Hermione had also been in the kitchen, watching the exchange between her mother and Molly with great merriment in her eyes. However, this joy was shocked out of her when she heard a very surprised scream escape from outside that sounded suspiciously like her mother.

Wondering what in the name of Merlin could have prompted something like that (perhaps she had been bitten by a gnome?), Hermione rushed out the door to the aid of her mother, only to almost collapse into a fit of giggles when she did get out there.

"YOU GET THOSE TABLES DOWN HERE AT ONCE! You ought to have more respect, especially when Mr and Mrs Granger are here!"

Hermione had not heard Mrs Weasley come outside, but she had jumped about a foot in the air when Mrs Weasley had started shouting at her sons. She could practically feel the frustration emanating from her as she took Marian by the arm and led her back inside.

Fred had instantly stopped the running commentary about whose tactics were the best, as soon as he had seen his mother.

He chanced a look at Hermione, but then proceeded to raise his eyebrow at her when he saw that she was bright red with suppressed laughter. This was not the Hermione Granger that he knew, but it did nothing to make her less attractive to him.

Hermione did not notice the way in which Fred had been looking at her, so she want back inside to check on her mother to the sound of two, slightly less-than-gentle thuds of tables once again contacting level ground.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"So, Ron, were Luna and yourself together long before this marriage law was passed?"

"Ummm..." said Ron, uncomfortable with the number of eyes that had swiveled in his and Luna's direction as a result of Marian's question. "Sort of...I guess."

"Right," replied Marian, frowning slightly, "I'm sorry if I seem a bit put off by all of this, it did come as a bit of a shock, and it has been rather difficult for me...for us, to come to terms with the pace at which everything is happening. That and you have to admit, the idea is a little absurd...no offence to the magical community, but..."

"Oh, don't worry," said Luna, smiling brightly, "we think it is a bit strange as well. My father quite agreed with me when I said I thought that it was downright mad!"

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or not. The image of Luna, of all people, admitting that something was ridiculous was a little odd, in and of itself, but it was also extremely hilarious. She felt Fred twitch a little beside her in what she supposed was concealed laughter.

Marian and Henry, both of which had greatly enjoyed their time with the Weasley's, did nothing to hide their laughter, and soon everyone along the table was wiping tears of laughter from their eyes.

"Well," replied Henry once his own contagious laugh was under control, "at least my Hermione is joining such a wonderful family. I would like to propose a toast, to Fred and Hermione. I know that you will have a great life together if you always remember to count not what is lost but what is left."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to all who have provided feedback so far. I love hearing what you think of the story so far, and it would be great if you could gift me with a lovely review at the end of this chapter.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: Je te prends comme femme, horriblement et légitimement<strong>

**I take thee to be my awfully, lawfully wedded wife**

Hermione shifted slightly under the warm covers, attempting to get comfortable. She moved a little to the left, then the right, onto her back, and then onto her stomach. She slipped herself onto her back once more, lifting the covers as she raised her knees, allowing a gust of cold air to swish underneath.

She vigorously rubbed at the goose-bumps now covering her legs, while glancing at the clock on the wall above Ginny's bed. It was too dark to see the position of the hands, so she grabbed her wand from the shelf above her, and with it lit, she squinted at the clock.

It was just past five in the morning, and Ginny continued to snore in the bed opposite; but sleep did not come to Hermione once more.

The wedding was to begin at midday, so she still had plenty of time to sleep, if she wanted. Hermione desperately wanted to sleep, because only sleep could blot out all of the recent events. However, her overactive brain would not allow her this one mercy.

It was for perhaps an hour that she lay there, under the warm covers, contemplating her life as Mrs Hermione Weasley.

Finally, she decided that a hot shower might calm her nerves.

She groped around in the dark, trying to find everything that she needed to have a shower. Finally she managed to make her way out of the room, unharmed and without disturbing Ginny.

However, her success was short-lived. She had opened the door and walked smack-bang into another person. A very solid and tall person.

Pressing her lips together, willing herself not to make a sound, she looked up at the offending obstacle that was literally blocking her attempt at finding calm and peace.

"Fred?"

"You know Hermione, it's bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding."

"Huh?" said Hermione, still feeling a bit dazed.

"What are you doing up so early? Were you so excited to see me that you just couldn't wait a few more hours?"

This spurred Hermione's brain into action once more.

"Ha, ha, very funny. I was actually on my way to have a shower, so if you don't mind..."

She moved, so as to make her way over to the bathroom, but Fred continued to block her path, giving her wicked grin while he was at it.

"Oh, if only you'd gotten out of bed sooner, we could have had a shower together. I'm all for helping the environment and saving water."

"Don't be disgusting," whispered Hermione, suddenly acutely aware of all the other occupants of the house, who were still asleep, but could wake at any moment and find her in what she thought to be a slightly compromising position.

She managed to push past Fred, but not so fast that she was able to ignore the wiggling eyebrows of her fiancé.

"See you later, Hermione."

"I'll be the one in white," she replied sarcastically, not quite able to completely ignore him.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Hermione turned to water to her ideal temperature (scalding hot), and quickly divested herself of her clothes before the cold air could nip at her body too much.

The hot water was a great relief. She let the pressure beat on her back for a few minutes to stave off insanity. Lathering a small amount of shampoo onto her fingers, she carefully massaged the suds into her scalp. Rinsing the bubbles free, she moved to loofah her body clean. Under the ministrations of her hands, she felt to muscles become supple and more relaxed.

Finally she summoned the courage to turn the water of, and she released herself back into the now, slightly less arctic air, and quickly dressed herself.

Knowing that nobody else in the house would yet be awake (she had heard Fred go back to his bedroom), Hermione stole down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaking ones, to make herself a cup to tea to drink while she waited for her hair to sufficiently dry.

Sitting there in the tiny kitchen, Hermione had never felt so alone or so small. Despite their best efforts to change the law, there was no loophole that could be found.

Hermione wondered why changing the law had been so difficult. So many people were opposed to it. It was such an archaic thing to do, barbaric even. She thought about the reason for it, or rather, what the Ministry said was the reason, 'To repopulate the Wizarding community, and to encourage a more peaceful magical society that is free of prejudice'.

How the Ministry of Magic expected to create a society free of prejudice when married couples were more than likely to hate each other, was beyond Hermione. Nonetheless, it made her think of Fred.

Did she hate him?

No, of course she didn't. It was the law that she hated.

Did she like him?

She couldn't answer this. Everybody liked Fred, but did she _like_ him?

Sitting there with her mug of tea, Hermione resolved to do the only thing that she could do, and that was to make the best out of it. In fact, thinking about of this made Hermione remember something that her mother had told her when she was a little girl, scared about going off to Hogwarts.

'Never complain of what you have, always remember that you are fortunate to have it.'

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Hermione was growing exceptionally impatient. She had been sitting in the straight-backed chair for over an hour. Ginny was in the process of styling Hermione's hair for the wedding. The only indication that some magnificent transformation was taking place, was the incessant tugging of strands, followed by a splashing of potion. Ginny had completely covered the mirror that Hermione was facing, muttering about some kind of reveal that was supposedly going to take place.

"Mione, _please_ sit still. You don't want a lopsided hair-do, do you?" Just _think_ of all the photos!"

"I don't know what you're doing up there. I've never had much success with it, so I don't know what you think you're going to achieve," grumbled Hermione, wincing slightly as Ginny gave the roots and extra tug.

After a couple of extra minutes, and some wand-waving, Hermione's hair was complete.

"Can I look now?" she asked the red-head.

Ginny shook her head.

"Nope, we still have to do your make-up."

Hermione groaned, because this time it was not only Ginny that was fiddling about with her. Angelina was helping as well.

Ginny and Angelina had agreed to be Hermione's bridesmaids. In spite of her previous lack of vision, Hermione knew that she wanted Ginny to be one of her bridesmaids. She then thought that Angie would be the most practical choice as another bridesmaid, seeing as Fred has chosen George to be his best man anyway.

Both girls were already dressed in their china blue frocks. The only think that Fred had insisted upon was having a brightly coloured wedding. So, to match the intense blue, Hermione had chosen a bunch of vibrant yellow daffodils for Ginny and Angie to carry.

It all looked so out of place in the weather, which was still cool, but Hermione thought it appropriate seeing as it was, technically, the beginning of Spring.

It was then, during Ginny and Angelina's ministrations, that Marian waltzed herself into the room with her usual gracefulness. Her hazel eyes cast themselves downwards, towards the chair that Hermione was sitting in.

"Hermione, my darling girl, you look beautiful. Fred won't know what hit him. How could he not fall in love with you when you're looking as gorgeous as this!"

"Thanks Mum. You're not looking too bad yourself."

Marian twirled on the spot, putting her hands on her hips, giggling as she went. The knee-length skirt of her chocolate brown sheath dress poked out from beneath the matching taffeta jacket.

"Your father said something along those lines," she replied, "but today is not about me. It is about you, and what a wonderful bride you will make. Or rather, you will make once we get you into your dress."

Mrs Weasley had chosen that moment to enter, and within a hundredth of a second, her voice was reverberating off the walls.

"You're not dressed yet? Quickly. We can't keep everyone waiting!"

Hermione only had time to offer one small smile of apology, over to her mother and Mrs Weasley, before the latter was bustling over, brandishing her wand.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Hair in place?

Hermione raised a hand to ensure that every strand had been smoothed into place.

Make up?

She had checked her face in a mirror before she had left the house. It was charmed into place.

Hermione looked down at her dress, moving her hand across the heavy fabric, making sure that not one wrinkle was present. She turned her head to look at the train. It was fanned out behind her in an elegant pool of white.

She felt her father standing behind her. He took her slender fingers into his and brought them up to his mouth to kiss them He took comfort in the fact that it stopped them from shaking, even if it was for only a moment.

The music began, and Angelina began to move forward. One foot moved in front of the other, not too fast for the music, nor too slow. When she had moved about halfway down the aisle, Ginny stepped forward. Hermione watched their china blue backs glide down the aisle, getting smaller with every step. Why, oh why did the aisle seem so never-ending?

The music changed and the congregation stood. Hermione felt her father give her arm a gentle, but insistent tug. She too put one foot before the other, and walked towards the black-covered back of Fred.

'At least he's wearing black dress robes and not bright purple with lime green polka dots...' she thought rather randomly.

She kept her eyes fixated on the front of the tent where the tufty-haired ministry official stood.

At long last, she and her father made it to the front. She felt his hand being replaced as her own was moved from his into Fred's open one.

Hermione chanced a look into Fred's face, not quite able to fathom the emotion that was held there as the officiating wizard spoke.

To Hermione, it felt like she was trapped in a giant bubble, only dimly aware of her surroundings as the official used his wand to bind them. It sounded like someone else was speaking as she pledged herself to Fred.

"I, Hermione Jean, take thee, Frederick Gideon, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do us part.

The final band of light was emitted from the officiator's wand, and Hermione Granger became Hermione Weasley.

"You may now kiss your bride."

Hermione held her breath as she leaned forward slightly. She could see Fred coming closer, so she closed her eyes before feeling his lips brush against hers.

A loud cheer erupting from their guests startled them apart. From the corner of her eye, Hermione was just able to see her mother and Mrs Weasley dabbing handkerchiefs under their eyes. She was able to see a grinning Harry and Ron, each sitting with their respective partners, also grinning.

Hermione looked over at Fred and she couldn't help but smile at him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry it took so long to update this chapter. Real life and my chronic forgetfulness got in the way**** :P**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Champagne<strong>

Ron watched on as Fred and Hermione swirled together on the dance floor. The cake had been cut and the bride and groom followed the custom of feeding each other cake.

They were smiling at each other, and, at least on the outside, they seemed happy.

Why then could Hermione never seem that happy with him? Ever since Ron had known Hermione, he had observed her ability to be successful in everything. Yet, they had never been able to make it work.

Sure they had always remained as friends, and they shared an uncommon bond, but he was at a loss as to why she couldn't love him when he cared about her so deeply.

A tiny flame burned inside him. He was not quite sure what it was, but he knew that it had the chance to grow exponentially if given the right fuel. He felt it growing ever so slightly now, as he watched Hermione take a wrong step and fell ungracefully into Fred's arms, laughing the whole way.

A hint of a smile touched Ron's face as he remembered one of their own dates. He had taken her to a restaurant in Hogsmeade where he knew a live band was going to be playing. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Hermione out of her chair, and once she was out of it, Ron could see exactly why she had been so reluctant.

His toes still tingled as he recounted in his mind the number of times that she had stepped on them.

He sighed and put away those thoughts as Luna came to sit beside him.

"She seems almost happy, doesn't she?" said Luna to Ron as she grasped his hand into hers.

"You do know that they both don't want to marry each other?"

"You can't always trust everything that people say, Ronald."

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

The party had ended; all the guests had gone home. Hermione and Fred had gone inside, into the Burrow to get changed out of their wedding clothes.

This had been the routine for all of the previously married couples of the Weasley family, before they would apparate to a cottage that the family had rented on the opposite side of Ottery St. Catchpole, specifically for each of the weddings.

While they were not able to go on a honeymoon straight away, each couple was able to spend the night of their wedding in the cottage as a means of privacy on their first night as man and wife.

As she was getting changed into more casual clothes, Hermione thought about the reception they had. It had been rather lovely, except for the short space of time where the story of Uncle Bilius' interesting habits had been brought up once again. Hermione had frowned with disapproval while Fred had roared with laughter at her side.

Hermione knew that herself and Fred had to give the appearance of being a happily married couple, but she wondered how much of it was really constructed when it came to Fred. After all, he had kept his arm around her waist for almost the whole evening.

Not that she was complaining, mind you. It had been rather comforting to have him there.

The couple had moved around the tent together, seemingly happy as they mingled with their guests, relaxed under the influence of champagne.

"Knut for your thoughts," whispered Fred to Hermione, immediately snapping her out of her reverie.

Hermione shook her head as if that action alone would clear her brain. She had decided to wait for Fred downstairs, and she did not realise how deep in thought she actually was.

"Oh, I was just thinking about today. It's been really lovely, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," said Fred, "It was pretty good. I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier, but you looked really beautiful in your dress, with your hair done up and everything..."

Fred trailed off towards the end, slightly embarrassed by what he had divulged.

"Thank you," said Hermione quietly, cheeks now tinted pink, "you looked rather nice yourself. Were they new dress robes?"

Fred nodded.

"I thought the occasion called for it. After all, you only get married once."

Hermione did not really know how to answer this, so she only smiled before changing the subject.

"I guess we should get going."

She held out her hand towards Fred, so that he could grasp it and they could apparate together.

Fred felt oddly calm as he clasped her hand in his.

"Ready? One...two...three!"

They both felt the familiar jerk behind their navels as they left the comforting sitting room of the Burrow.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Fred and Hermione reaching their destination, sounded like a whip being cracked. The air around the cottage was so still that the intrusion of their arrival scared several birds out of some nearby trees.

As much as he did not want to, Fred was forced to let go of Hermione's hand as he fished around in his pockets for the key to the front door.

He could have used his wand, but it was suddenly important to him to not use magic for every tiny thing.

Finally, after much rummaging he pulled the tarnished silver from the inside of his jacket, and within moments they were inside, basking in the warm glow of the fireplace.

Hermione looked around approvingly. The brown sofa looked so inviting next to the rest of the wooden antique furniture.

Fred led her through this, past a small kitchen, to what seemed to be the only bedroom in the cottage.

Hermione saw that their luggage had indeed arrived safely, but she wasn't too interested in that at the moment. She was keener to follow her nose back to the kitchen that they had just passed. If she wasn't mistaken, there would be some of Mrs Weasley's onion soup for supper.

Fred had apparently smelled it too because he had wordlessly left Hermione in the bedroom, and headed straight to the kitchen.

When Hermione peered in, she saw that he had already begun to heat up the stew, and was now slicing bread.

"Want some?" he said, looking up from the loaf to Hermione.

Hermione eagerly nodded, and set to finding where bowls and cutlery were stored. In her journey, she found that some kind soul had deposited a bucket of ice and several bottles of champagne. She gathered up some champagne flutes as well.

"Want some?" she asked Fred, inclining her head towards the champagne.

"Yes," replied Fred in what seemed to be an extremely grateful tone.

The soup warmed through in record time, and soon they were sitting in front of the fire, enjoying their supper, and sipping at the champagne.

A few glasses later found the pair of them very relaxed, and a few more after that found them a bit beyond relaxed. Both Hermione and Fred were sitting on the floor, with their backs resting on the sofa, and Hermione's head resting on his shoulder.

"Fred," sighed Hermione, "we're going to have to sleep with each other, aren't we?"

"The bed is big enough for us to each have our own side for tonight. We can sleep in single beds after that, if it will make you more comfortable."

"You know that's not what I mean."

She turned her head to look at him.

"I do hate stating the obvious but, we are going to have to have a baby. Actually we're going to have to have three."

Fred sighed, not knowing what to say, but he was saved the effort because Hermione was continuing to speak anyway, albeit in a slightly panicked tone that was getting more hysterical with every passing word.

"What am I going to do with three children? I bet the ministry didn't spare a thought for those who have responsibilities to fulfil at work. How dare they assume that all us women automatically want to become mothers? Some of them are only 17, what are they going to do? How can we live a life that only the ministry wants us..."

Anything else that was said after that was not heard by Fred because he did the only thing that he thought might silence her frenzy. He kissed her.

To his incredible surprise, she began to kiss him back.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Hermione awoke to light streaming through the completely inadequate curtains that covered the windows of the cottage's bedroom.

Her head hurt, and oddly enough her body ached all over as well, like she had done far too much exercise.

She thought quick. They couldn't have.

Panicking, she pulled at the twisted sheets until she could see her body underneath them. Sure enough, she was completely nude.

Pulling the sheet tight around her body, she felt the lump next to her sprawl out before making a noise that was halfway between a groan and speech.

"Oh shit."


	10. Chapter 10

**I know that i'm awful for not updating sooner, but i'm back at uni and have two jobs, and have three weeks of practical for uni and have not had a single day off in over three weeks. In short, i'm freakin' busy.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter. Please read and review!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: Incomfortable<strong>

**Uncomfortable**

Fred and Hermione had very little time to dwell on what they collectively remembered from their wedding night. They were expected out of the cottage by mid-morning, and time was already ticking.

They ate a hurried breakfast, doing everything that they could to avoid making eye contact the whole time. Barely a word was said between them, even afterwards, when they were packing up their belongings. They merely grasped each other's hands, and apparated themselves back to the Burrow, eager to be amongst family who would, with some luck, mask any tension between the most recently married couple.

The pressing darkness of apparition did very little to alleviate any of Hermione's uneasiness, in fact, she would blush a bright scarlet whenever she thought of the whole thing, and cry out the same question in her head.

"Why did I have to bring out the champagne last night? WHY?"

"Hermione? HERMIONE? What's wrong? Your face looks likes you've spent the last three days in a sauna."

"Hmm?" replied Hermione absent-mindedly as she looked up at Ginny's concerned expression.

They were sitting at the kitchen table of the Burrow, alone, tying green ribbons around the wedding favours for Ginny and Harry's wedding.

"Why does your face keep turning red? Usually you only do that when you're hiding something..."

This only caused Hermione to turn a deeper hue of puce.

"You ARE hiding something, aren't you?"

"No," said Hermione in a small voice as though she thought that might deter the spirited Ginny.

"Yes! Yes, you are hiding something!"

"No...don't...you'll find it disgusting."

"Hermione, what could I possibly find _that_ disgusting?"

Head down, and in the most mumbled voice Ginny had ever heard, Hermione revealed what was bothering her.

"I slept with your brother."

"I can kind of use my imagination here, but you are going to have to be a little more explicit. In case it has escaped your notice, I have several brothers."

"Fred," replied Hermione in that same mumbled tone.

Ginny blinked away her confusion.

"What's so bad about that? Yes, I am a little grossed out by the fact that you're telling me this, but you slept with your husband. It's hardly what one might define as scandalous."

"Yeah," said Hermione slowly, "but, from what I remember, I liked it."

Comprehension dawned on Ginny as her mouth formed a silent 'Oh'.

"And, you feel guilty, don't you? That's why you're acting this way."

Hermione still did not look up at this.

"Oh, Hermione," said Ginny moving around the table to hug her friend. "You shouldn't be feeling that way. Fred is my brother, and it does pain me to say this, but he is your husband and he won't have taken that role lightly. He might be a joker and a prankster, but he is decent."

Ginny's face lost most of its sympathy, and she spoke with all seriousness as Hermione began to make noises of protest.

"I wasn't going to say anything before, because I didn't want to pressure you, but I think he really does like you. Like, really likes you. I don't think he would have said yes to marriage otherwise."

"What?" said Hermione, completely dumbstruck.

"Please don't tell anyone that I said anything. I don't think he even _really_ knows it himself, yet. But, just a little off topic...can we get back to tying these ribbons, Mum's going to be breathing down out necks in a minute."

Just as Ginny said that, the duo heard a knock at the kitchen window.

"Who on Earth could that be?" said Ginny, her tone growing more exasperated with every word, both desperate and excited to get back to her own wedding preparations.

Hermione ignored Ginny's noises of frustration as she stood and walked over to the tawny owl that was perched, waiting patiently on the windowsill.

Hermione was slightly bewildered when she saw that the slip of parchment was addressed her and Fred. Slitting open the seal, her mouth slid open when she saw what was written.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Fred Weasley,_

_According to Ministry of Magic records in the Office of Magical Births, Deaths and Marriages, yourselves, on Tuesday, March 7, were legally and magically bound._

_As a result of this, it is required of you, by law, to be present for a ministry approved inspection to ensure the terms of the law are being met._

_The date of your inspection is Wednesday, March 15 at 10 00h._

_We would greatly appreciate your cooperation regarding this undertaking._

_Kind regards,_

_Miranda Sampson_

_Office of Magical Births, Deaths and Marriages_

_Ministry of Magic_

"Mione? Is there something wrong?"

Ginny's voice snapped Hermione out of her reverie.

"Err...I don't know...Fred and I have our inspection from the ministry coming up, just after your wedding. I don't know if we'll be ready."

"What do you mean?" said Ginny, brows puckering over her clear, brown eyes.

Hermione sighed out her insecurities.

"It's just that you and Harry know that you are moving into Grimmauld Place after you're married. Fred and I don't really have a place to line in permanently. George and Angie have claimed the flat above the shop for now, and we can't stay here forever."

Ginny nodded her head in understanding, and motioned for Hermione to continue speaking.

"We're thinking of moving into a place in Diagon Alley. It's not perfect, but it's close to the shop for him, and I can easily get to the ministry from there. If we get started tomorrow, we might just be able to have it ready for the inspection...actually, I have better let Fred know about this. He'll need to take the morning off from work, won't he?"

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione sped off, leaving a spluttering and annoyed Ginny in her wake.

"Oi! You promised to help me today!"

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Ginny and Harry's wedding had been beautiful and incredibly romantic, no one could deny that. Ginny's obsessive planning and preparation had paid off and everyone had had a good time, however this did not stop Hermione from mentally cursing it as she hastily moved around her new home, setting things straight.

The wedding had set their schedule back a little when it came to her and Fred moving into their new flat in Diagon Alley.

It was a stone's throw away from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, making it easy for Fred, and it was only a short Floo trip for Hermione to the Ministry (she wasn't a huge fan of the Floo network, and she was very grateful that it was over before she had the chance to get nauseous). The flat itself was simple, and spacious, that is, it would be once she managed to clean it up.

"Where the heck is Fred?" Hermione screeched around her brain.

Right on cue, looking as if he did not have a care in the world, Fred strolled in through the front door.

Hermione did her best to keep her voice level.

"Where have _you_ been, might I ask?"

Her voice had the deadly calm of a cobra about to strike.

"A ministry official is going to be here any minute, assessing the legitimacy of our lives and you feel the need to go gallivanting about the street. Where have you been Frederick Weasley?"

Fred was also displaying an acute sense of calm, however, unlike Hermione's, his was genuine. This skill had been developed in his rather informative childhood, thanks to his mother's discipline.

"I was at the shop," he said simply as he proceeded to hang up his coat on the already overflowing coat-rack by the front door.

"Any you couldn't ask George or Lee to cover for you?"

"No," said Fred in that same unconcerned tone that so very much irritated Hermione. "Lee had his own inspection to worry about, and I could leave Georgie-boy to fend for himself. Beside's you've already done such a wonderful job here, love."

Despite her frustration, Hermione could not help but feel her heart flutter a little when he called her 'love'.

The first couple of weeks of marriage had been incredibly informative for Hermione. She had learned a great deal about and from her husband. Apparently he had become a rather talented cook after he and George moved into their flat above the shop ("We couldn't let ourselves starve, could we?").

His ability to clean, on the other hand, left a lot to be desired, however he felt that this was often an illusion. It only appeared messy because Hermione was so fastidiously neat.

They decided to keep up appearances and share a bed. This had not been too traumatic for either of them. However, to Hermione's intense horror, she often found herself having to move closer to the end of the bed because Fred had this unconscious habit of moving closer to the middle, and thus her, in the middle of the night, in his sleep. Many were the mornings where Hermione would wake up with a stiff neck and sore back, and she presently was rubbing at her lower back as though her frustration with Fred was manifesting itself physically.

The doorbell echoed around the now spotless apartment.

"He's here," said Fred, winking as he moved close enough to put his arm around Hermione's waist. Hermione flinched at first as his arm made contact with the sore spot, but she felt oddly comfortable in his embrace, despite the fact that she knew it was all part of the pretence that they had agreed to.

Swelling with one last steadying breath of courage, Hermione reached forward and turned the door knob.

Hermione opened the door to a man that she immediately disliked. He squinted at Hermione and Fred, pulling his round glasses to the end of his nose for a better look, as thought this mere act could tell him if the married pair were up to anything suspicious.

"Please, come in," said Hermione through clenched teeth as she forced a smile to her lips.

Apparently they passed his first test, because he stepped inside and began to survey the room at large, taking in its cleanliness and the wide open space of kitchen, dining and lounge rooms. He immediately began to make, what Hermione hoped were pleasant, notes on his clipboard.

The physical inspection of the couple's living arrangements was thankfully brief, however, Hermione resented how much time he spent in their bedroom, looking through their wardrobes, or rather, Hermione's wardrobe. Fred's only got a cursory glance in comparison to her.

However, the wizard moved on relatively quickly to the next part of his visit. A very detailed questionnaire, whose answers had to be written. All one hundred and fourteen of them. Hermione suspected that if years of essay-writing at Hogwarts had not led to arthritis, this questionnaire certainly would.

Still rubbing at her stiff fingers, Hermione stood with Fred following closely behind, each getting ready to usher the ministry official out the door as quickly as possible. However, they were not to get away so easily.

"One last thing..." his raspy voice trailed off as he moved his wand in a series of complicated movements.

Hermione felt a surge of heat right through her and out of the corner of her eye she saw a bright red light envelop both herself and Fred. She instantly felt her cheeks suffuse with blood at this.

Hermione had done some research on the "ministry approved visit" and she knew that the last part, that is the spell, was to test to see if the marriage had been consummated.

A light that was the colour that was surrounding Hermione and Fred at the moment indicated a positive result.

Fred apparently knew what the light meant as well seeing as a similar colour was gracing his face as well as he fidgeted on the spot.

With a hasty goodbye, and a slight smirk, the wizard left their home, saying that the results of the inspection would be issued in seven to ten working days.


	11. Chapter 11

**Because i was so mean and took ages to update the last chapter, i'm giving this one to you early :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: Tout en une journée de travail<strong>

**All in a day's work**

As soon as the despicable man had left, Hermione let out a sigh of relief that she did not even know she had been holding. Fred did the same, and finally extricated his arm from around her waist. It had comfortably remained there all throughout the ministry inspection, and Fred had even managed to write with it still there when they were filling out their individual questionnaires.

Now that he had let go, Hermione felt a little lopsided, a little naked even. It was like something was missing.

This feeling both startled and confused her as she went around setting things straight once more (the ministry official had decided that _looking _at their belongings had not been enough).

"Well, I guess I'd better head back to the shop," said Fred, his voice breaking through the silence like shards of glass.

Hermione began to say something, but was cut off by Fred's kiss on her cheek.

"I'll see you tonight," he said as he walked out the door, hardly stopping to grab his jacket.

Hermione stood there for a few moments, feeling completely stupefied. Her cheek, where he had kissed her, was still tingling as though the imprint of his lips had been burned onto her face.

Slowly she gathered her senses and began to move again. She abandoned the pretence of restoring her home. She did the one thing that she had always been able to count on, and that was to bury her feelings in work.

She jogged over to her bedroom and collected her handbag before grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and whisking herself away to work. She hoped that all she was feeling would have blown over by dinnertime.

**HPHPHPHPHPHP**

Hermione decided to work late that day, thinking perhaps that Fred might have wanted to do the same considering that they had both missed a good chunk of the day with the inspection. It was therefore a slight shock to her to arrive home to the hearty, warm smell of stewing meat and vegetables.

Fred was already setting the table, ready for dinner.

"Smells good," said Hermione, smiling as she put down her work things.

"You can thank Mum the next time we see her. I think she must've come over on her own because I found it on the table next to a piece of parchment with heating instructions."

He handed to Hermione a note scribbled with Mrs Weasley's love, and indeed heating instructions. Neither herself nor Fred were _that_ inept in the kitchen, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Hermione chuckled lightly to herself before fetching two wine glasses. She had not realised how hungry she was until she smelled the good food.

The unlikely couple made their usual small talk throughout the meal, helped by a generous measure of elf-made wine. There was an unspoken, mutual agreement that it had been a long day, and they really needed it.

Hermione had drunk just enough of the wine to make herself a little giggly, but she was well within her limit. She could still think coherently, if only a little more boldly, as she and Fred lounged on their sofa, facing one another.

"I've just had an idea," she said to Fred, whose state was not all that different to hers; relaxed, but still functional.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"We can play a game," stated Hermione as though it were the most natural thing to suggest in that circumstance.

"Right..." replied a slightly bemused Fred.

"I was thinking that we play Twenty Questions, but instead of pretending to be someone else, we ask questions about one another. We have to answer with the complete truth, no more, no less – you know, so we can get to know one another better."

"Ok, fire away," replied Fred in an unconcerned tone.

Hermione blinked rather rapidly, as though she were trying to bat away wrackspurts with her eyelids. Clearly, she was expecting a little more resistance considering neither of them had been incredibly forthcoming with each other up until this point.

"Really? You're okay with this?" questioned Hermione, squinting one eye towards her husband as though trying to ascertain whether he was being serious or not.

Fred, nodding his head, replied with the same blasé attitude.

"Fire away."

Hermione decided to dive straight into the deep end, before her courage could fail her.

"Hmmm...question one...what is your favourite childhood memory?"

Fred pretended to think for a few moments, twisting his mouth in different directions before finally answering.

"There are so many to chose from – many involve tormenting either Ron or Perfect Prefect Percy, of course..."

He ignored the annoyed sound that came from Hermione as he sat, contemplating her first question.

"There is the teddy bear incident with Ron... the dragon dung thing with Percy...hmmm...I would have to say that my favourite childhood memory is Sunday lunch. Every Sunday lunch. I guess I never really appreciated how great having a large family, like mine, is until there was the chance that it could be taken away."

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. She knew that he was talking about the war, and how painful it was for him. The healers had been able to save him, but it had been touch and go for awhile after the wall was blasted away. He was not without scars.

She watched as Fred shook his head trying to divest himself of the terrible memories, like a dog trying to rid its ears of water.

"Ok, my question to you is the question that you just asked me."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. She hated it when people copied others.

"Ummm... I guess that it would have to be wrestling with that mountain troll in first year."

Fred was giving her a look that suggested that she had perhaps told him that she was Voldemort in disguise.

"How on Earth could _that_ be your favourite childhood memory?"

Hermione turned a little pink as she explained, acutely aware of his gaze upon her.

"Well, it was when and how Harry, Ron and I became friends."

"Ohhh! So that's how it happened. I always thought –"

He suddenly stopped, averting his eyes as though he might give away his response just by looking at her.

"No, go on. What were you going to say?"

It was Fred's turn to be a little nervous.

"I was going to say that I always thought that Ron had a bit of a thing for you – even then. That's why he hung around you so much. Harry was his friend, and I guess they came as a bit of a package deal, so you ended up having to deal with the both of them."

Hermione's gaze towards him softened.

"Ron has always had a bit of a thing for me. As far as I know, he still does, but you have to understand that we could never make it work. Our relationship was much too volatile. We're better off as friends, it's much less complicated this way."

"He's still pining after you, you know. Even though he's married to Luna."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "There is nothing that I can do about that. It's something that he has to work on by himself. He married Luna, I married you. That's going to have to be good enough for him... but we're getting off topic. Next question: What is the best holiday that you've ever been on?"

"I would have said Egypt, but Mum caught us before we managed to get Percy in the pyramid. Still, it's right up there. We didn't really go on many holidays..."

Fred trailed off, and Hermione looked down at her lap. She couldn't help but feel a little ashamed of herself for bringing it up. She should have known better. The Weasley's barely scraped by as it was, of course they wouldn't have gone on many holidays.

Allowing Fred to change the topic, Hermione nodded for him to continue.

"If you were stuck on a desert island, what three things would you take, and why?"

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as she pondered the question.

"I would take... a book - no, don't laugh at me! - something along the lines of 'How do I get off this island?'... some food...and a wand."

"Useful," said Fred, his smiling leaking into his reply, "you're turn to ask."

The pair continued to ask each other questions while the level of wine in the bottle continued to decrease at regular intervals. All too soon, Hermione had moved down the sofa, and nestled herself into Fred's arms.

Resting her head on his chest, they continued to talk, or rather Fred did. Hermione was content to listen to the sound of his soft voice, and it wasn't long before her eyelids begun to droop, and she was asleep.

Fred did not care in the slightest, and not wanting to wake her, he summoned a blanket to cover them and he too was slumbering within moments.


	12. Chapter 12: Part 1

**Chapter 12**

**Part 1: Ordinaire**

**Regular  
><strong>

Hermione cracked open an eyelid.

"Too much sun..." she moaned. She tried to lift her arm to cover her eyes, but found that she couldn't. Both of them were pinned down to her torso by something very warm, and very heavy.

"What the...?" she thought as she tried to remember whether she had actually made it to bed last night.

Angling down her chin, she saw a bulk of flesh right before her very eyes. If she could have jumped back from it, she would have.

"Fred?"

The mass of flesh did not move despite the fact that she and it were a massive tangle of arms and legs.

"Fred, let me get up, I need to pee."

Hermione would have giggled at his muffled string of obscenities had she not been at extreme risk of emptying her bladder over him. However, much to her dismay, Fred only grabbed her tighter still.

'I can't believe we slept on the couch last night. What was I thinking...?"

She caught sight of the almost empty wine bottle on the coffee table.

'Oh, that's right. We didn't think..."

Finally she shouted at him.

"Fred please let go!"

"Fine."

He finally acquiesced, and released her to the still cool air of the morning.

Hermione went to take care of herself, but she could not resist a little laugh when she returned to find Fred back under the blanket, hugging one of the sofa cushions.

The only time that she saw him twitch was when the smell of sizzling bacon wafted over from the kitchen to the lounge room.

Hermione turned to see Fred staring hungrily at the empty plates she had already placed at the table.

"Bit peckish, are we?" laughed Hermione as she went about the kitchen preparing toast, eggs and all the breakfast accompaniments.

"You have no idea," replied Fred.

Hermione smirked and set the food before him.

"So," she said when they were both sitting with breakfast, "what are your plans for today."

"The shop," said Fred immediately, not giving it a second thought.

"Of course," replied Hermione.

She paused for a second.

"You really love that shop, don't you?"

"Of course I do," said Fred, not with scorn, but reverence, "George and I worked our backsides off to get that place to where it is today."

"Yeah," sighed Hermione, "I'm sorry that I wasn't supportive of it at first."

"That's ok, I kind of get where you were coming from with your 'don't test on first years' rule."

"Finally, we're getting somewhere!"

Fred smiled before returning back to his toast. He looked back up again, just in time to see Hermione gazing sullenly at her own plate, biting at her bottom lip.

"Uh, Mione, is something the matter?"

Hermione looked up at her husband; her chocolate brown eyes so wide that Fred could see the hesitation in them.

"Umm... I wanted to ask you something, or rather, talk to you about something...I just down know the best way to phrase it..."

"Right," said Fred slowly. "Why don't you just blurt it out? That usually seems to work for Ron."

Hermione ignored the crack towards Ron, and begun to speak.

"You read the requirements of the law, didn't you?"

Fred nodded before motioning for Hermione to continue speaking.

"Well, then, you'll know that we are required to produce one magical child within the next couple of years. As far as I know, there is no loophole out of this..."

Hermione winced at how clinical she sounded.

"Oh," was all that Fred was able to say as the full weight of what Hermione had said, hit him.

"I don't know how to say this...but...we should probably get onto that, don't you think?"

"Yeah," replied Fred automatically.

"We don't have to do anything straight away," replied Hermione quickly, scared that she had offended him, or scared him off. "It's just something that we have to think about..."

"Mhmm," said Fred, still in a bit of a daze, "I've gotta get going now; I can't leave George waiting."

"Bye," said Hermione as, despite herself, she wondered how long it would take Fred to realise that he was still in yesterday's clothes.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

A couple of weeks passed, and neither Fred or Hermione had mentioned their breakfast conversation from the morning after the inspection.

The results of said inspection had arrived, and to their great relief, they had passed. They were free from such matters for several months, that is, until the next inspection was due. Hermione inwardly shuddered at the thought of that man entering her home once again.

It was not until they received a visit from Bill and Fleur that Hermione began to think about it again.

Hermione had apparently so preoccupied with what was going on inside her head, that Fred rounded on her the minute that Bill and Fleur had exited the doorway.

"What's wrong?" he said, leaning against the frame of the door, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at Hermione, who was wringing her own hands.

"Nothing," she said in the most unconvincing voice that Fred had ever heard.

"Nope, it's not nothing. You've been bursting at the seams all evening with whatever is going on in that head of yours."

He gave her such as Mrs Weasley-esque stare that Hermione finally relented.

"Ok, fine, it's not nothing."

They moved to sit on the recently vacated sofa.

"It's just that Fleur's pregnant."

"Oh, well spotted."

Fred simply could not resist with his comment, even though he knew it might annoy Hermione. Thankfully, she ignored this comment and pressed on.

"We really need to get onto having a baby. I really don't want something this huge hovering above our heads for months and months."

If Fred was honest with himself, he knew that what was troubling Hermione was something along these lines.

"Well," he replied slowly, "what do you suggest we do about it?"

Hermione turned so red in the face, she was practically a strawberry; and her stomach started doing flip flops. Surely he'd had the talk and knew how _that_ all worked.

"Plan for it," she said in a small voice.

Fred didn't know what to think. Sex was not something that someone merely planned. It was one of those things that just happened.

He sat thinking for a few minutes, while Hermione watched him with bated breath, waiting for his reaction.

Finally, he spoke again.

"Hermione, would you like to go out to dinner with me?"


	13. Chapter 12: Part 2

**Chapter 12: ****Ordinaire**

**Regular  
><strong>

**Part 2**

The knee-length silk dress was such a shade of bright red, and cut in such an impeccable way that it was impossible not to notice the curly-haired Gryffindor as she tottered down Diagon Alley in matching cadmium red heels.

As always she vehemently ignored the stares of the passersby and other late night shoppers. Her brown eyes were peeled; opened wide for both searching purposes and in anticipation.

Finally she spotted him, flaming red hair illuminated by the flickering candlelight. She walked over sedately, shoulders pulled back, an air of confidence surrounding her, even if she did not necessarily feel that way. He pulled her into a tight embrace, causing her already racing heart to increase its speed ten-fold.

"You look beautiful, Mione."

In a matter of moments, her face and neck had flushed to such a colour that they matched her dress.

"Thank you," she said feeling very flattered, "you're not looking too bad yourself."

Hermione's nerves had calmed down enough for her to giggle when Fred came around to her side of the table to pull out her chair for her so that she could sit down.

A waiter, in what appeared to be dress robes, appeared at the side of the table in an instant. And within seconds he was pouring them a complimentary glass of wine.

Finally settled in her seat, Hermione took the change to gaze around at her surroundings.

In the far distance she could see the blinking lights of 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes', and she knew that it would remain like that for the night. Fred and George maintained that it was all part of their marketing strategy, even if it did keep all the neighbours awake all night. Even Hermione accustomed as she was to seeing it from certain windows of their apartment, would get annoyed at it.

Fred's hand on hers jolted her back to the present.

"What are you going to order?" he asked her in a gentle voice, as he hoped he sounded nonchalant enough so that he would not scare her.

"Don't know," she replied simply, casting her eyes downward towards the menu, "but now that I think about it, the roast chicken sounds pretty good."

"Mhm," said Fred, giving a cursory glance towards his own menu, "think I might get the same."

The black-jacketed waiter appeared before them once more, and they were able to place their orders without further ado, chatting about inconsequential matters until the arrival of their meal.

The benefit of magic was that they did not have to wait very long for food, and they were spared talking about the unusually warm weather for too long.

Hermione could feel her mouth begin to salivate before the cut piece of juicy chicken reached her mouth, and in what seemed like no time at all, her stomach was satiated.

"Wow," said Fred, clearly impressed with Hermione's fervour towards her dinner, "with a stomach like that, you could be a Weasley."

Hermione let a half-hearted smile escape her lips.

"Technically, I am a Weasley. We are, in fact, married, or have you forgotten already?"

Fred let out his trademark laugh.

"Couldn't forget it even if I tried. You wouldn't let me!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and continued to eat.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Letting out a small sigh of contentment, Hermione pressed her plate away from her, and pushed her chair back slightly.

"Full?" asked Fred, with a mischievous grin.

"Reasonably," said Hermione, wondering why he had taken such a sudden interest in her stomach.

"Too full for dessert?" he said, that same cheeky look gracing his face.

Hermione eyed him somewhat suspiciously. In her time as prefect at Hogwarts, she had gotten to know the looks that the twins would give each other when they had something particularly 'special' planned. Fred was giving Hermione one of these looks right now, and she was feeling very wary because of it.

"Maybe, why?" replied Hermione, eyeing him mistrustfully.

"Are you ready to go?" he replied evasively.

"I guess I am," replied Hermione, looking around at the other diners as if they might be part of whatever annoying, potentially cruel plot Fred was putting her through.

The couple thanked the waiter, and paid for their meal.

"I'm going to have to side-along apparate you, if that's okay?"

Hermione held out her hand by means of consent, ready for him to grip and take her away to wherever he had planned to take her. Hermione closed her eyes and she felt his arm snake around the side of her waist, pulling her close to him. She put all her concentration on following Fred.

The constricted feeling of apparition was countered by the slightly cooler gulps of air she was taking in.

She opened her eyes to hundreds upon hundreds of multi-coloured light bulbs and fair rides. Stalls containing games of chance lined the edge of a pier, and threw their light to the water below, making its surface glitter like a disco ball. The carriages of the 'Crazy Mouse' roller coaster were almost destined to topple into the water, so fast were they travelling around the bends. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see the dodgems bumping about, and she could smell the sickly mixture of burnt sugar and buttery popcorn, making what almost seemed like a butterscotch sauce in her nose.

She mouthed a discreet 'Wow' as she shifted her eyes in every direction, attempting to process all the information her eyes were sending to her brain.

She noticed that Fred's arm did not leave her waist as he lead her around to sample each of the delicious treats.

"George and I would come here quite a bit in the early days of the shop. It doubled as a place to chill out and relax, and provide inspiration for new products."

Hermione watched as he causally threw a sticky toffee into his mouth, reminding her of the summer before her fourth year where she heard the story of Harry's cousin Dudley being at the receiving end of a Ton-tongue Toffee.

Realising that tonight was not going to be as bad as she had feared; she finally relaxed into Fred and began to enjoy herself. However, she vehemently refused to have a go on the dodgems, saying that she preferred her dinner to stay in her stomach. Instead, she watched Fred secretly cast a cushioning charm on his car before seeing the muggles bounce about with twice the force not even having hit Fred's car.

It was only when Fred saw Hermione yawning behind her hand for the fourth or fifth time that he realised he should probably take her home. Having her fall asleep now would really put a wrench in his plans.

Grasping her hand, he led them over to a quiet and unobtrusive place from where they could safely apparate back home.

Unlocking the door and removing the wards, Hermione dropped her belongings down on the table, and stepping out of her shoes, she moved herself to lie down on the sofa. Fred, seeing this, inwardly sighed and moved past, over to their bedroom.

"Aren't you coming to bed?"

"Mhmm, just a sec. I need to put my feet up for a minute. I wasn't expecting all that walking at the pier, my feet are killing me."

She lay herself down, eyes flickering closed.

Fred stopped before backing himself over to the sofa. He eased himself down, next to Hermione's feet which she had propped up on a soft cushion. Wordlessly, he took one of her feet in his hands, and he began to rub it gently.

Immediately, Hermione's eyes sprang open once more and she tilted her neck so that she could see what he was doing. One of his hands left her foot, and he waved at her to lay back down. Letting out a sigh of contentment, Hermione obeyed.

She felt his hands flutter over all the tense muscles and tissues, clearing away all the stress and tension. He started with the balls of her feet, moving down towards her heel, then up her ankle. Hermione wallowed in the good feeling until she realised where his hands were beginning to move. It all seemed so harmless until his hands had reached and then moved past her knee.

Fred, on the other hand, was leaning over her quite a bit so that he would be able to reach the tops of her shoulders. He almost abandoned all pretence as he moved to lie down next to her, cradling her body in his so that there was enough room for the both of them. He continued to stroke and massage her, moving up her arms, endeavouring to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

Slowly his hands moved south of her shoulders, down to her front. Instead of flinching as she had done earlier, eyes still closed, Hermione twisted herself into him, pulling her own arms up and around his neck.

Not in any way startled by the sudden enthusiasm, Fred summoned his Gryffindor courage, and he closed the distance between her face and his.

His hands began exploring again, but this time it was more deliberate, and Hermione let out a small squeak of surprise when she felt herself being hoisted into the air by Fred, and carried over towards their bedroom.


	14. Chapter 13

**I hope that you're all enjoying the story so far. I've already read some wonderful reviews:)  
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**I would love to hear what you think of this update.  
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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Tout le monde sauf moi<br>**

**Everyone but me  
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Hermione's stomach gave a rumble of protest so loud that Fred threw his head up from where it had been resting on her abdomen, and roared with laughter.

It was mid-morning on a Sunday, about a week after their successful dinner date. They had frittered away the early hours of the morning with their love-making.

Hermione was trying just about every trick in the book to get pregnant as quickly as possible. At the present, her pelvis was being tilted backwards by several pillows, and she had swallowed a pharmacy of prenatal vitamins. The very timing of the sex had even been predetermined by several moon calendars – not that either of them was complaining too much. In fact, Hermione sensed that their emotional relationship was stronger, that is, once they had gotten over their silly embarrassment of seeing each other's bodies.

"I guess I'd better be making breakfast then," said a still chuckling Fred to Hermione's stomach.

"Fred," replied Hermione from over the top of yet another book about parenting. "We don't even know if there's a baby in there yet, why are you talking to my stomach?"

"Well, if there was a baby in there, I wouldn't want to be deliberately excluding them from the conversation. That would be rude," said Fred in all seriousness.

Hermione made a disparaging noise as she put down her book and kicked back the covers so that she could get up and make her own food.

"Don't make too much," Fred called out to Hermione as she left the room, "We're due at Mum's by twelve."

Hermione re-entered the room with a look of mock horror.

"You're telling me to not make too much food? You? A Weasley? I never thought I'd see the day!"

Fred rolled his eyes before rolling the rest of his body back across the bed so that he could comfortably lie back under the covers, relieved of the burden of producing breakfast.

"Mum's making treacle tart for dessert," he said simply, and Hermione understood. Her mouth was already salivating in anticipation.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

The continuous chatter was abruptly ceased by the tapping of knife to glass, a sound meant only one thing – somebody had an announcement to make.

Hermione turned her head away from her conversation with Fleur so that she would be able to pay attention to what seemed to be very important news for Percy and Dee. In fact, Percy had that pompous look that he had so frequently sported in adolescence; it must have been very important news.

"Good afternoon. Audrey and I have an announcement to make."

Percy reached out to give Audrey a one-armed hug that was the first sign of affection Hermione had ever seen him give.

"Audrey is pregnant. We're having a baby!"

Immediately the table was in an uproar of joy and the chatter was resumed in full force.

Women all but jumped over their seats to begin to ask Dee a multitude of questions, while men scraped back their own chairs to give Percy the first of many congratulatory thumps on the back.

However, to Hermione the room suddenly felt very crowded. The wall of people seemed to be closing in on her, so much so that her breathing became panicked.

Eyes opened wide, she looked around at the mass of bodies clouding her vision. A horrible, sick feeling began to rear in the pit of her stomach, and she knew that she had to get out of there fast.

Mentally putting a pair of blinders on herself, Hermione skidded back her chair. She pushed past all the people and headed towards the back door and into the garden of the Burrow.

The green grass felt springy under her skin as she plonked herself down beneath the shade of the numerous trees in the orchard. She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them in towards her chest, heaving with the force of her sobs.

It may have only been a few minutes, but to Hermione it felt more like hours or even days.

She felt and heard a heavy weight push itself onto the ground next to her. A familiar arm snaked its way around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she heard Fred's voice buzz into her ear.

Hermione only shook her head and buried it deeper in her cocoon of arms and knees.

"Look, Hermione. I don't want to play guessing games with you, but I will guess that it has something to do with Percy and Audrey's little announcement."

Hermione cried harder still.

Fred sighed as he placed the palms of his hands on her cheeks, pulling her face up to meet his. Blue eyes locked into brown with unyielding fervour.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

After one last sniffle, Hermione composed herself enough to be able to provide some insight into why she looked like she had just crawled out of a dark hole for the first time in twenty years.

"I'm such a failure!"

"Mione, there are several words that I would use to describe you...'failure' however, does not bear a great resemblance to any of them."

This only caused Hermione's bottom lip to quiver in astronomical proportions.

"Of course I'm a failure, What else would I be? I can't do anything right," she wailed, dipping her head once more into the abyss of her lap.

By this point, Fred's patience was really wearing thin. He was not accustomed to a weepy Hermione. He didn't know what to do with her, or how to approach the seemingly dire situation.

"What makes you think that you're such a failure?" said Fred tentatively in anticipation of another potential outburst.

"I'm a horrible wife, that's what! I can't do anything right. We'll both be cast out of the magical community before we know it. Even Percy and Dee have had better luck than what we've had!"

Suddenly, something clicked in Fred's brain.

"Mione, a baby is not something we can force. Like I've said a million times before: It'll happen when it happens.

"But we've done everything we can. I looked up the charts, took the vitamins. I did everything I could to make it happen fast."

Fred pulled himself in closer for a proper hug, whispering calming words into her ear.

"We're in this together, we can do it."

Then, taking her by the hand, he lead her back up to the house so that they could finish congratulating Percy and Audrey on their own wonderful news.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Indécis**

**Undecided**

Hermione was wearily getting ready for yet another romantic night with Fred – pre-determined, of course, by a moon calendar and a woman who claimed to be a Seer.

Ginny had lent her a voluminous, so-see-through-there's-no-fabric-left, bright red number, especially for the occasion. Hermione was in the bathroom, busy adjusting the straps when she felt one ping itself loose, exposing a little too much flesh for what she was comfortable with.

"Oh God! Since when was I big enough up there to pop open my clothes!"

Feeling entirely too frustrated with the whole operation, she ripped the garment off and tossed it on the floor to be dealt with later. Flinging on her fluffy and oh-so-comfortable dressing gown on, she waltzed herself over to bed and flopped down beside Fred.

"Not in the mood either?" said Fred with one ginger brow raised in her direction.

He was met with such a fierce glare that he rolled back over to his side and was asleep within moments, leaving Hermione to ponder her own thoughts.

There was that one niggling thought that had been creeping into her consciousness for the past few days. It was the one thing that was both a triumph, and intense fear. She desperately wanted it to be true, but at the same time she was fearful of the repercussions.

Doing her best to put away those kinds of thoughts, she resolved to deal with the problem in the morning, and tried to go to sleep.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

The next day was a weekday, and that meant that Hermione had to get up and go to work.

Ever an early riser, she pushed herself out of bed at 6am, despite her lack of sleep during the night, and was ready to go to the ministry within the hour. The problem would have to wait until lunchtime.

It seemed to Hermione that time during that morning seemed to be using its rather incredible ability to change speed at the most inconvenient moments. Therefore, by this rule, lunchtime rolled around much more quickly than what Hermione would have liked.

She took the elevator downstairs. This time, instead of turning left, as was her usual custom in her daily trip to the dining hall, she turned right, and proceeded to walk through the doors of the visitor's entrance, to the streets of muggle London.

She walked briskly down the street, crowded with business men and women, also on their lunch breaks. Her eyes darted about, almost as if she expected all the strangers in the street to know where she was going, and why.

Finally, she chanced upon the very store that she had been looking for: a chemist.

Darting inside, she flitted about to the correct aisle, hoping to get what she needed and get out in record time. However, she would not be so lucky. One look at the rows of neatly-placed, brightly coloured boxes told her that this might take a little longer than what she had planned for.

What were her criteria? Did she need the type that was on sale?

'Maybe I do need two for the price of one, in case I make a mistake?' she thought in a rather self-depreciating manner.

Although discipline and order were an innate part of Hermione, what she did next completely contradicted every value she had ever had instilled into herself.

Closing her eyes, she spun herself on the spot several times, almost falling over in the process. She reached out with one hand until she felt the edge of the product shelf, then reached a little higher, aiming for the product itself. Snagging one box to separate it from the many, she opened her eyes and examined her prize. It would do.

Keeping her head as low as possible, she snuck into one of the adjoining aisles and grabbed a few items that she hoped might distract the cashier from her main purchase. She didn't want anybody getting any ideas, even those people who did not know her, especially when she wasn't even sure of it herself.

Stuffing her most recent purchases into her handbag, she returned back to her office feeling even more nervous than what she had been before she set out. The small, coloured box in her bag seemed to have such a burning presence in the room that it distracted Hermione from her work all afternoon. She longed for the time when she would be able to put herself out of her misery, and put a stop to all her guessing games.

One stroke of luck did happen to befall her that afternoon. A Floo call from Fred informed her that he would be coming home late this evening. That was good. That gave her more time to do what she needed to do. It would give her the time to take her time, and make sure that she did things properly.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Perhaps she should have gotten the brand that had the two for one sale.

This couldn't be right. It had to be faulty.

The place where the little, pink symbol should be couldn't be blank. One line was a no result. Two lines was a yes result.

This was a nothing result.

'Damn!" Hermione thought angrily as she eased herself down onto the bathroom floor, back resting against the edge of the toilet. She was not going to be forced to go back and relive her torture in the dreaded chemist. She would have to take other drastic measures.

Wandering over to the lounge room, she took a pinch of Floo powder from the pot and threw just enough into the flames to turn them to a pretty emerald green.

She let her head be engulfed by these same flames as she shouted the destination for her head.

"Hi Harry," she said when she spotted the pair of familiar legs. "Is Ginny around? I need to talk to her for a couple of minutes."

"Sure, just...err...wait there a sec."

Hermione waited as patiently as she could while she waited for Harry's retreating feet to return with Ginny in tow.

Finally the green-sequined ballet flats of Ginny Potter were drawn into Hermione's vision.

"Hermione! Is there something wrong?" said Ginny, not quite able to keep the worried tone out of her voice.

"Ummm..." replied Hermione, unsure of how to respond to such a direct question. "Are you free to come over? Now?"

"Sure, I'll just grab my bag and Floo over in a minute or two."

Hermione pulled her head out of the fireplace to the sound of Ginny telling Harry her plans. She attempted to gain some kind of control over the breaths she didn't previously realise were coming out ragged.

However, she didn't have long in which to do that given that Ginny had almost Floo-ed in on top of her.

"Whoah!" cried Ginny as she thrust her arms out to prevent any head-hitting.

"Alright, So, what's got your wand in a knot?"

"I did a pregnancy test," said Hermione blankly, facial expression mirroring the results of the pregnancy test.

Ginny, on the other hand, began bouncing in her seat in anticipation.

"Girl or boy?" she exclaimed excitedly, apparently ignoring Hermione's quietness.

"I still don't know whether or not I'm pregnant."

Ginny stopped bouncing.

"What do you mean you don't know? You said you did the test."

"It was a muggle test...and it came out inconclusive."

Comprehension dawned in Ginny's hazel eyes.

"Have you tried the magical way?" Ginny asked as gently as was possible.

Hermione shook her head.

"I was shaking so bad, I didn't want to stuff that up too."

Her bottom lip wobbled, making her voice shake as she spoke.

Ginny moved closer to Hermione and wrapped her arms around her tenderly.

"Mione, I'm sure you didn't stuff anything up. It was probably a faulty test. Would you like me to do it the magical way?"

Hermione looked up from her lap, great drops of clear liquid hanging tremulously from her bottom eyelashes.

"Please. I _have_ to know."

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><p><strong>I would love to hear what you think about how the story is progressing. Reviews would be lovely!<strong>

**Also, thank you to those of you who have already reviewed, especially to those who have sent multiple reviews. They are wonderful to read :)**

**Last but not least, a massive, humongous, enormous, ginormous thank you to my beta, "The Weasley Way" for being so great and supportive, and also to "AllFredWeasley's" who provides the correct translations for the french chapter titles. You've both done a wonderful job so far!  
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	16. Chapter 15

**A quick thank you to all the wonderful reviewers, and very patient people who have been following the story. I love reading all your comments.  
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**Also, thank you to ****to 'MeganWeasley1399', for pointing out to me that Dean Thomas is in fact a half-blood. My bad. I thought he was muggleborn. But it doesn't relly impact the story anyway.****  
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**Have fun reading this chapter xx  
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><p><strong>Chapter 15:<strong>

**St Mungo's**

"I just don't understand it," said Ginny, shaking her head and waving her wand over Hermione's abdomen once more.

"Maybe I'm only half pregnant? Maybe there is a baby in there, and there's something wrong?"

"Mione, please don't be ridiculous. It's impossible to be half pregnant. I'm sure there's nothing wrong. Maybe I should owl Mum and see what she says-"

But Ginny was quickly cut off by Hermione as she pulled her shirt back over her stomach and stood up from her supine position.

"Don't tell your Mum anything yet. I don't want to get anyone's hopes up yet."

"You'll have to find out somehow."

Hermione took a minute making sure her clothes were once again neat, and wrinkle free.

"I'll go to St Mungo's. Surely a healer will be able to sort all this out."

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"Verity? Verity!"

George Weasley's voice reverberated around the store making several customers turn their heads in alarm.

Flashing a broad grin in their direction, he spoke in a falsely reassuring voice.

"Nothing to worry about! Go back to your shopping!"

He quickly turned and disappeared behind a curtain, running down the stairs two at a time.

Nope. The situation had not improved in the two minutes since he had last laid eyes on it. A sticky substance, with the colour and consistency of pitch had decided to cover almost every surface of the workroom, and it was quickly spreading to any area it had not yet infected with its noxious appearance.

George pricked his ears up. He could hear a whistling getting closer. If this was Verity...

The tune stopped right as soon as it had reached the level of George's ear.

"Whoa, what in the name of Merlin did you do down here?"

George scrunched up his face in annoyance as he looked at his twin.

"It wasn't me. It had to have been Verity. I put her in charge of making the base for the Amortentia. I told her not to leave it near an open flame..."

Fred's eyes surveyed the damage – not that there was all that much to see, but he did spot a few large and uncovered cages against the side wall.

"Oh no," he moaned, "It'll take hours to wash all this out of the pygmy puff's fur – and we'll have to do it tonight."

"Angelina'll kill me if I'm late again... I can only imagine what Hermione will do with you..."

The pair stood looking morosely at the devastation, until Fred piped up.

"Dibs on using the Floo first!"

He ran back up the stairs, leaving George to contemplate his own thoughts and potential punishments.

Reaching the designated fireplace, he threw in the required pinch of Floo powder and he proceeded to shout the name of his home where he knew Hermione would be waiting for him.

"Mione!" his flame-framed floating head shouted into their lounge room.

There was no answer.

"Hermione! Where are you?"

Still no answer.

Knees beginning to ache, he retracted his head back into Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to grab another pinch of Floo powder.

This time, when he threw in the power, his entire body joined it and in almost no time at all, he was transported back home.

Stepping out of the fireplace, he swept his eyes over the obviously empty room.

'Maybe she's in the kitchen,' he thought, 'it _is_ almost time for dinner.'

But there was no one. Nor even the sizzle of meat, or the warmth that only one of his mother's donated Sheppard's Pies could provide. Everything was as clean and empty as it had been when he and Hermione had left that morning for work.

He retraced his steps back over to the fireplace, where he Floo-ed himself back over to the shop.

Once he had brushed the soot off himself, he went in search of a scrap of parchment, quill and bottle of ink. Quickly penning a note to his wife, Fred attached the note to one of the shop's mail owls and sent it off to do his bidding.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"Finished!"

The last pygmy puff bounded off the damp towel, and landed in the safety of its cage, rejoicing at the fact he was back with his friends.

Fred stretched his neck upwards, massaging the tension away with the tips of his fingers. His eyes moved to look at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 9pm and he still hadn't heard back from Hermione.

His twin was at the other end of the room valiantly attempting to scrub the black goo from the furniture. Magic had proved to be futile.

"Hey, George?"

"Hmmm..."

"We haven't had any owls arrive this afternoon, have we?"

"Nope."

"You alright here if I head off? I haven't heard anything from Hermione, and I just need to check that she's ok."

Without raising his head from the task he was focused on, he waved his hand at his brother.

"Yeah, go. I'll lock up. I don't think I'm helping the goo situation here anyway."

Leaving George to it, Fred collected his things and apparated himself down the street. Something didn't feel quite right about the whole situation, and he didn't want to waste the time walking back home as he usually did.

Arriving just outside the front door, he let himself in to the flat, once again discovering a lack of delicious smells and warmth. In fact, it was completely devoid of any signs of life.

"Maybe Ginny will know where she is...in fact, they're probably doing something together, and lost track of time."

With his wand, he made glowing flames appear in the fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder from its pot on the mantelpiece, he threw it into the flames casting a light of incandescent green across the room.

Shouting the name of his sister's residence, Fred felt as though his head had completely left his shoulders as it hurtled forwards to be met by the feet of his one and only brother-in-law.

"Merlin!" Harry yelped, slopping half his cup of tea on his lap, and causing an acutely unpleasant warm and sloshy feeling in his pants. "Fred, you scared the-"

"Hi Harry," replied Fred, ignoring the look of disgust on Harry's face as well as his response. "Have you seen either Ginny or Hermione today?"

"Yeah, Hermione invited Ginny over to your place a few hours ago, she didn't look too good actually, now that I think about it."

Immediately a feeling of panic coursed through Fred's body.

"What do you mean, she 'didn't look to good'?"

"Err...what would your mum call it?...she looked a little 'peaky'. Maybe you should try St Mungo's. They may have gone to see a healer."

Not even allowing himself the time to say goodbye, Fred whisked his head back home to grab yet another pinch of Floo powder.

The flames were once again emerald green when Fred shouted across the empty room.

"St Mungo's!"

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

As calmly as he could, Fred walked over to the witch behind the reception desk.

"I was wondering if you could tell me if Hermione Weasley is here?"

The bored-looking woman gave him a sour expression over the tops of the talon-like nails that she was presently filing.

"May I ask what relation you are to her?"

Fred resisted the urge to get angry and tried to keep himself as composed as possible while he replied.

"She's my wife."

The witch picked up her wand from where it was laying on the desk, and gave a tap to what appeared to be a blank piece of parchment.

The page instantly filled with minute purple writing which was now being scrutinised by the receptionist.

"Second Floor," she replied in that same uninterested tone.

Fred turned and bounded up the stairs two at a time, all the way to the second floor where he reached the monotonous pale yellow of a waiting room.

The air was faintly malodorous. It was a curious mixture of urine and decaying flesh, desperately trying to overpower the more obvious smell of disinfectant. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he tried to ignore it as his eyes scanned the room.

He finally spotted her, and Ginny, over in the far corner. Ginny was nonchalantly reading a magazine. Meanwhile, Hermione was sitting next to her, hands carefully intertwined in her lap, but otherwise looking tense.

He was over at her side in no less than three strides.

"Mione, what's going on? Are you ok?"

Before Fred could get his answer, a healer appeared at the end of the narrow corridor.

"Mrs Weasley?"

Hermione wordlessly stood and made to leave, sending an apologetic look towards Fred, but she was soon stopped by Fred's hand on hers.

"Can I come in with you?"

Hermione sent an enquiring look at Ginny who was already furiously nodding her head, before going back to her magazine.

"Yes, you can come in with me," she said in a low voice to Fred.

The pair followed the healer down the long, dim corridor to a small room at the very end. It was so typical of a muggle doctor's office that the familiarity seemed to make Hermione un-tense her muscles just that little bit.

Hermione and Fred each took their seats, and waited for the healer to cast some light on the situation.

"Well, Mrs Weasley, I assume this is Mr Weasley. I'm sure you want to know the answer as soon as possible, so I'll get straight to the point. Your suspicions were correct. Congratulations, you're pregnant!"

A breath seemed to escape from Hermione, while Fred turned to look at his wife with the most absurd expression on his face.

"We're having a baby?" he finally asked in a faint voice.

Hermione nodded her head wordlessly, a small smile creeping onto her face as she did so.

"We're having a baby!" Fred yelled as he picked Hermione up from the ground and twirled her in midair, kissing her entirely on the lips.


	17. Chapter 16

**I know that this chapter is a bit short, but for the sake of the next chapter, it needed to stop there.**

**Hope you enjoy it anyway :)**

**Chapter 16: Dessert**

"Now, remember," said Hermione in her most severe tone, "you can't say anything until dessert – no, not even a little hint! – otherwise they'll be onto us like...like...like a Weasley on dessert."

"Fine," grumbled Fred as they prepared to leave for Sunday lunch at the Burrow.

"Not a word. Not even to Ginny, who already knows that you're pregnant."

"Good," replied Hermione as she turned away from her husband, to the mirror where she smoothed down her hair one final time.

"Let's go."

The Burrow was already crowded by the time they arrived and it took Hermione quite some time to work her way through the crowd, over to where Harry and Ginny were standing. The latter winked at Hermione, while the former was midst battle with a struggling Teddy Lupin until Teddy dropped out from his arms, and ran over to the window to squeal at the gnomes.

"Oh, look!" he said pointing at a particularly chubby one who had decided to start tunnelling under the foundations of the house.

Hermione felt a great surge of affection towards the little boy. She laughed along with the other adults as they all watched him change his appearance to that of a gnome, and run around hunched over and grunting like one of the knobbly little men outside the window.

She winced when she saw him run head-first into Fred's leg whilst he was chatting with his brothers; but then she saw Fred bend down and scoop him up. A few calming whispers seemed to be uttered, and the whimpers were stopped before they had the chance to blossom.

Hermione loved the way how the Weasley's were so accepting, and unconditional with their love. It did not matter to whom the child belonged. Everyone was family, and everyone was cared for with the same devotion.

With the sudden addition of so many family members, the Weasley's were no longer able to fit in the confines of the kitchen. The work of several Weasley men had produced an outdoor living area of sorts which ran the whole width of the house and held the longest, wooden, outdoor table Hermione had ever seen in her life. To top it all off, the table was topped with the most succulent array of food. The perfect slices of roast meat were glistening with their juices; roast potatoes were wonderfully crisp on the outside and incredibly tender and squishy in their middles, just as potatoes should be. Tureens of brightly coloured vegetables were dotted along like bowls of candies, lighting up the whole feast. Suddenly Hermione was feeling exceedingly hungry.

Chairs were pulled in close, and for several minutes one could only hear the gentle clicking of cutlery, and the odd sigh of contentment.

Slowly, the chatter began to rise up once more, and over various conversations, the news and gossip of the past week was relayed to Hermione. She was saddened to hear from Ginny that Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies had sustained a severe injury during practice, bringing forward her retirement by a substantial amount of time. Management had asked Ginny to replace her, but Ginny wasn't sure that Quidditch was the best thing to be doing when she had to bring up a family soon anyway.

Finally, dessert came along with a healthy serving of anxiety for Hermione. She watched as Mrs Weasley levitated the trifle over everyone's head, and served it up.

Hermione's mouth, which had previously salivated at even the sight of food thanks to the pregnancy hormones, was now incredibly dry at the prospect of her and Fred's announcement. However, she focused her thoughts, and sent one look towards Fred that clearly indicated, 'Now!'

"Everyone..." said Hermione in a timid voice as she stood up awkwardly, Fred following suit.

A dozen heads turned in her direction, expectantly, but she did not let it deter her, even when she felt her stomach churning with the threat of Sunday lunch making a quick reappearance.

"Oi! You lot down there, shut up, we have an announcement to make."

The babble at the end of the table between Bill, George and Ron ceased with a minimum of glares from the aforementioned offenders.

"We're having a baby."

Hermione had barely released the word 'baby' from her mouth when she was physically crushed with a tidal wave of hugs and good wishes.

Mrs Weasley was at the fore of the crowd and with tears in her eyes she asked if Hermione had told her parents yet.

"Fred and I are going for dinner tomorrow night," replied Hermione, "That's when we're telling them."

"That's nice, dear. I was wondering if you could invite them over for our usual May 2nd celebrations. If they want to come, of course, but I thought it would be nice if they were included in that kind of thing."

Hermione smiled brightly.

"Of course! I'm sure they would love to. I'll let them know."

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"A celebration at the Weasleys, eh?" said Henry Granger as he poured a liberal amount of salt over his roast potatoes. "I couldn't say no to that. What do you think Marian?"

"I think it's a wonderful idea, you have such a large and loving family, Fred. It would be our pleasure. Tell me, what's the celebration for?"

Fred politely swallowed his food before attempting to say, "Vold-" before Hermione cut across him.

"It's a kind of Wizard Independence Day that we like to celebrate.

"Good-o! We'll be there with bells and whistles, now what was this news that you had for us?" replied Hermione's father with a wink.


	18. Chapter 17

**Thank you to each of you who have reviewed :) I can't believe we got it over one hundred! Also, a big thank you to all of you who have put the story on your favourite list, story alert etc. It's great to see so many familiar names popping up from those who have previously reviewed etc, either on this story or others. Your appreciation has not gone unnoticed.**

**Without further ado, here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it :)**

**Chapter 17: Une Vraie Victoire**

**A True Victory**

The wooden door opened and the careworn look of Mrs Weasley appeared at the other side.

"Hello, dears," she said as she bestowed a hug to each of them, "We've almost got everyone, just Bill and Fleur to still arrive. Lunch will be ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

Mrs Weasley looked behind Fred and Hermione to Hermione's parents who were looking a bit green in the face from the slightly erratic driving of Fred. Henry Granger offered to drive, but Fred had turned down his numerous offers saying that he had 'done it all before'.

Hermione, on the other hand, had only ever heard the story of Harry's escape from the Dursley's in second year. She thought that if this ride had beared any resemblance to today's, she was in slight surprise that they had made it back in one piece. Then again, it may have been George that was driving that time. Hermione decided that she would check later, and then suggest that her father drive back home.

When everyone's coats had been put away, the group began to mingle with the rest of the family: Marian joining Molly in the kitchen to share housekeeping tips; Henry joining Arthur in the domain of the shed, Mr Weasley claiming that he needed help with the safe disposal of batteries (Mrs Weasley was not fooled for a second).

Hermione and Fred were left to their own devices, and their eyes flitted about the immensely crowded sitting room as they looked for a conversation to join, making sure to stay well away from where Xenophilius Lovegood had engaged Ron in a conversation about the sensitivity of Erumpent Horns.

Unfortunately for Hermione, Percy had managed to snag her away and bombard her with the results of his latest research on whether now was the appropriate time to introduce a family-sized transport vehicle into the market. However, she did not have to endure this for very long because Fleur's baby bump was being pushed through the door, followed by its owner. Bill was left trailing slightly behind, holding the bags.

Hermione immediately rushed forward to help the expectant mother.

"Fleur! Why don't you come over here and put your feet up?"

"Sorry we are late," grumbled Fleur as she carefully lowered herself into the armchair, "Ze baby, she is moving around a leetle too much today. I cannot wait until she is born..."

"So, you know it is going to be a girl?" asked Hermione with obvious excitement.

"Non, but Bill thinks it will be. I am only humouring him," replied Fleur rubbing concentric circles on her side, "but we will be finding out any day now!"

Hermione smiled, but could not help admonishing the young woman.

"You should have stayed home to rest!"

"Non, 'ermione, I would not want to miss today. Not for all the galleons in Gringotts. I did not fight in ze war so that I could stay at home. Today is a day for celebration, so that our children, zey would be safe."

Hermione nodded at her, completely understanding what Fleur was trying to say. They were not celebrating their victory on that fateful May day. They were rejoicing in the fact that they were alive, something that had not been so secure on that fateful May day. No matter how hard they tried, they could never forget what a privilege it was to be able to wake up in the morning and see those whom you loved. They would never be able to miss the opportunity to see their dream realised.

"Lunch is ready!" Mrs Weasley's cry was punctuated with a little giggle on the end as Mr Weasley had kissed her cheek.

Everyone laughed as they set themselves down in front of what was a feast to rival the ones of Hogwarts. As everyone emptied their plates, Mrs Weasley was bustling around filling them up once more. It seemed like each of the bowls, and pots, and trays on the table were refilling themselves magically.

The levels of liquid in the bottles of mead reach an all time low over the course of the meal, although Hermione noticed a number of the ladies who were discreetly avoiding it. Audrey and Fleur were obviously pregnant, but neither Ginny, nor Luna were drinking anything alcoholic.

At one point, Hermione even raised an eyebrow in Ginny's direction, but Ginny kept her lips shut and put her arm around Harry protectively. Hermione was mentally cheering Ginny and Harry when she heard a yelp from across the table.

All chatter immediately ceased and looked in the direction of Fleur.

"Do not worry, it just felt like a very strong kick. I'm sure zat is ze baby's way of saying how happy he or she is to be 'ere."

The remainder of the people at the table went back to their food, however, Hermione kept her eyes on Fleur, and noticed that the young woman was vigorously rubbing at a spot on the base of her much distended stomach.

This had not escaped the notice of Marian, who was sitting to the right of Hermione.

"Are you sure that you're alright, dear?"

"Yes," replied Fleur in a small voice, but the grimace on her face gave the game away.

"Perhaps we should get you to St whats-its? Molly, you've had more children than what I have, what do you think?"

Molly was already nodding before Marian had even finished the question.

"No, no!" protested Fleur, "I will be fi-"

She let in a sharp intake of air, and Bill leaned in towards her.

"Maybe you should listen to mum. I've got a feeling she knows what she is talking about."

Fleur finally conceded by nodding meekly as she attempted to lift her weight from the chair.

Amongst the chatter concerning Fleur, there were a few excited whispers about how exciting it would be if the baby was born that evening. It would be a true victory against all the death eaters that were still present in the Wizarding community.

"You know, some tea made from gurdy-roots has been known to speed along the initial stages of labour," said Xenophilius above the ever-rising volume of noise. The few snorts of derision were quickly masked, and preparations for the sudden change in plan were made.

While all the others were preparing to Floo to St Mungo's, Hermione and Fred bundled up Hermione's parents towards the car. Hermione did not think that they would be able to handle the Floo system, especially when she was not sure if they would be able to use it, being muggles.

"Er...Fred," said Hermione, when they got to the car, "maybe you should let my Dad drive to the hospital..."

Fred looked at her with a quizzical expression.

"Why?"

"Ummm..." stalled Hermione. She did not want Fred to know that she thought his driving skills could use some drastic improvement.

"So that we know how to get there for when your little one is born," replied Marian with a wink in Hermione's direction.

"Exactly!" said Hermione, seizing the excuse with gusto. "We wouldn't want you to miss out on that."

Fred seemed to accept this, and passed the keys on to Henry who was now looking incredibly relieved at the sudden change of plans.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Despite having taken much longer than the others to get to the hospital, the small group did not have any difficulty locating the remainder of the Weasley clan once they got to the appropriate floor. There were Weasley's and Potter's everywhere. Some were huddled in corners, while the slightly more inebriated were slumped in chairs while their wives tutted about how it was their own fault.

Hermione's parents dispersed themselves from the younger generation and went to join the soon-to-be Weasley grandparents. With Fred on her tail, Hermione made her way over to Ginny.

"Have you heard anything yet?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Not much, but Bill was out a little while ago to tell us that it shouldn't be too much longer."

Just as Ginny closed her mouth, Bill appeared at the end of the corridor once more.

The chattering stopped, and heads were raised expectantly.

"It's a girl!" he cried to the room at large.

An enormous cheer went up around the waiting area, that Hermione was sure could be heard around the entire hospital.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Mrs Weasley sobbing with joy into her handkerchief as she ushered her husband over so that they could go and see the new addition of their family.

"A few of you can go in to see her, but no more than four or five at a time."

Molly and Arthur immediately rushed forward while the others created small groups deciding that Percy and Dee would be next in line.

Hermione and Fred sat down in the waiting area with those remaining, waiting patiently for their turn.

"Ooh, she's got the cutest tufts of red hair. There'll be no mistaking that she's a Weasley!" Dee squealed as she came towards Hermione and Fred. "You two can go in once Ron, Luna and Luna's father come out," she added as she placed a protective hand upon her own stomach.

Hermione turned to face Fred with a mixture of excitement and trepidation evident in her voice as she spoke.

"In a few months, that's going to be us."

"Yeah," replied Fred in an awed voice. "Can you believe that we're going to be parents? We're actually going to be responsible for a little person."

Hermione feigned a look of absolute horror.

"Don't tell me Fred Weasley is actually going to be responsible for once in his life?"

"It's been known to happen," smirked Fred, "but Ron and Luna are back. Should we get going before someone jumps the queue? Marian, Henry, would you like to join us?"

"We don't want to intru-" began Marian.

"Nonsense," replied Fred, cutting off his mother-in-law, "You're family now in all the ways that matter, we would love for you to join us."

Hermione looked up at her husband with pride as they walked down the hospital corridor to the room where Fleur was staying. She had spent many hours cursing how unfair the marriage law was, but when she really thought about it, she could do a lot worse.

The small group made it to the door of Fleur's room, and crept in as quietly as they could so as not to wake the baby.

"She's absolutely beautiful, congratulations!" whispered Hermione to the small family as she watched the tiny girl sleep contentedly in the arms of her mother.

"Yes, dear, congratulations. Have you decided on a name yet?" enquired Marian in a low voice.

"Victoire," replied Fleur almost at once as she sent a secret smile towards Hermione.

Hermione beamed a smile towards the proud parents. It truly was a victory for them all.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Portant sur le nom de Weasley**

**Carrying on the name of Weasley**

_**GUESS WHAT! This story is officially off its hiatus! *insert victory dance***_

_**Please excuse the French title, I 'google translated' it and it is not always correct when I do it that way. If there are any native French speakers, who would like to volunteer to correctly translate the titles, your contribution would be very much appreciated.**_

By the time June rolled around, and England's weather had attempted summer, the birth announcement section of 'The Prophet' had grown at an exponential rate. The sudden increase in birth rate did not include those who were pregnant and yet to give birth. Along with Fred and Hermione announcing their imminent offspring, Ginny had confirmed her pregnancy, as had Angelina and Luna.

Gossip that had originated in the very depths of the Wizarding community also indicated that Lavender Finnegan and Hannah Longbottom were also due to receive a special arrival when the cold weather came.

Hermione, on the other hand, could not help but focus on her impending first doctor appointment. The morning dawned bright and was surprisingly clear, given the torrential rain that had blanketed the country for the entire previous week. Both Hermione and Fred had taken the morning off from their respective jobs, in order to mentally prepare themselves, more than anything else.

"Fred! For goodness sake, can you please calm down?"

The pair walked briskly down the draughty corridor with Hermione slightly behind owing to Fred's ability to take much longer strides. Her own trepidation was making her more easily annoyed at the smallest, most irrelevant details, for example, the fact that Fred kept drumming his left hand on the side of his thigh as he walked.

"We've got plenty of time. I don't know what you are so worried about."

Hermione finally caught up to her husband, however, despite her protests, she could not help but feel still a little jittery at the fact that they were going to be seeing their baby for the first time today.

The pair made it to the third floor of the hospital – a place they had been visiting with increasing frequency in recent times. Not knowing where to go, they approached the witch that was sitting behind the reception desk.

"If you could just fill in these forms while you are waiting," said the curly-haired witch. "Healer Appleby will be with you shortly."

Fred and Hermione thanked the receptionist and went to take their seats, wading their way through the enormous amount of paperwork.

"Does it matter whether or not I drunk Nettle tea on the day of conception?" Hermione whispered to Fred. "I don't even remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday!"

"Just put no," replied Fred shaking his head as his eyes ran down the list of obscure questions. "I don't think you've ever had Nettle tea anyway..."

"Not the point," mumbled Hermione as she continued to scribble her way down the parchment with the self-inking quill that had been provided for their use.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley?" called out the receptionist after what seemed to be a ridiculously long time. "Healer Appleby is ready to see you now."

Hermione and Fred quickly packed up their belongings, and handed over the completed questionnaires to the receptionist before following her instructions to walk down the corridor and knock on the third door on the right.

"Come in," a deep voice sounded from within.

Taking the lead, Hermione opened the door and let Fred and herself into the room, and into the presence of the healer who apparently specialised in obstetrics. When entering the room, Hermione was surprised to see a tiny man that was shorter than even Hermione's own five feet five inches, despite the wizard's deep voice which had implied otherwise.

"You must be Mr and Mrs Weasley," he greeted them with an excited tone, holding out his hand for Fred and Hermione to shake. "Well, I can see that you have filled out all the required paperwork, so I don't see a reason why we can't get started!"

He handedHermione a paper robe and showed her to a room where she could change into it. Not wasting any time, Hermione changed into the robe, already feeling self-conscious of the tiny beads of perspiration that were being absorbed by the robe in her nervousness. She exited the small, cramped dressing room to find that Healer Appleby had already set up for his examination. The fact that it resembled a muggle doctor's office calmed Hermione slightly, although she did keep one slightly wary eye on where this Healer was pointing his wand as she lay down on the examination bed.

The healer moved her wand in a series of intricate movements over Hermione's exposed belly. A swirl of colour issued forth from the end of the wand, and formed a moving mass of a deep, royal purple streaked with varying shades of pink and blue. First there was more pink visible in the mass. Then there was more of a pale blue, getting darker until finally the mixture settled into shades of deep blue.

Hermione and Fred watched with bated breath as the lines of colour formed themselves into a head and torso, arms and legs. At long last, a tiny bump was visible just above the abdomen. There it was, pulsing away. A tiny, human heart beat.

"Fred..." Hermione's voiced trailed away in awe.

Fred responded by finding Hermione's hand and gripping it tightly within his own, not trusting his voice to make any kind of reassuring sound.

"Everything seems to be coming along nicely, from what I am able to see. The baby seems very healthy," said the Healer, seemingly oblivious to the moment that Hermione and Fred seemed to be having within their own minds. "Now, Mrs Weasley, would you and your husband like to know the gender of your baby?"

Hermione's head immediately snapped to face Fred, seeking his opinion on the matter. Fred simply shrugged.

"It's up to you," he replied. "It would be more of a surprise to me if it was something other than a girl or a boy."

The Healer looked from Fred to Hermione, trying to gauge a reaction from them as to whether he would proceed any further or not. Considering the option for a moment, Hermione turned to face Healer Appleby, and swallowing the anticipation that she felt, she slowly nodded her head.

"Yes, we would like to know the gender," she replied, smiling to reassure not only the Healer, but herself as well.

Another quick swish of the Healer's wand turned the swirling blue image around so that he was able to better see the necessary parts of the baby.

"Well, I am about ninety-nine percent certain that this baby is..." He turned the image around one final time. "Yes, that is most definitely a boy. Congratulations!"

Hermione felt such a wave of emotions overcome her that she was struggling to process all of the new information. However, she was almost certain that Fred was feeling reasonably similar to her given the only response he had given her was a firm squeeze of her hand where he was still holding it.

"Now, judging by the way that all the organs are forming, and the size of the foetus, this handsome boy should be coming out to meet you sometime around...hmmm, I'd say sometime around the end of December. A lovely Christmas present for you both, I think."

"Thank you," Hermione replied in a soft voice, as she watched on in awe. The baby was reacting to the adrenalin in her body as a result of her apprehension, and was moving all over the place, although he was much too small for Hermione to feel it yet.

Looking over at Fred, she could not help but grin.

"Merlin help us," Hermione could not help saying aloud once she had seen that Fred had managed to tear his eyes away from the image of his son. "This means that we have to start thinking of baby names."

**HPHPHPHPHPHPPHPHPHPHP**

Several days later, Fred was helping Hermione prepare their dinner. He had been roped into this task under the instruction that his assistance would be required if they wanted to eat before midnight. Hermione had had to work late several days in a row to make up for the morning that she had missed for the appointment with the Healer, and this left her time in the evenings, with Fred, rather limited.

"Do you know what the male version of 'Muriel' is?" Fred mused as he chopped the salad vegetables.

"Fred! For the millionth time, we are not naming our son after your Great-Aunt Muriel," replied Hermione, annoyance creeping into her voice as she set two plates down onto their dining table.

"You're right, George might want to take that name, or it's male equivalent, when Angie has their baby. He does love Aunty Muriel so very much," replied Fred so casually that Hermione genuinely believed that he was being serious.

"This is one time when I hope and pray that you are actually joking," replied Hermione, as she re-entered the kitchen to collect the necessary cutlery.

Fred laughed at the fearful expression on Hermione's face.

"Of course I'm joking!" he replied putting down the knife he was holding. "Have I ever been serious?"

He moved over to where Hermione was now setting down the knives and forks, pulling her into a hug from behind. Hands resting on her still reasonably flat stomach, he gently rubbed them up and down.

Hermione felt the tension leave her body as he did this, and she relaxed into his embrace. Reluctant as though she was to admit it at times, Hermione could not help but marvel at what a good match she and Fred were, despite their circumstances. She added just enough seriousness to bring his hilarity back to Earth, and he lifted her from the doldrums that her studious nature sometimes created.

"But in all seriousness, what are we going to call our child?" said Hermione, putting her arms around his middle as she turned around to face him.

"Hermione, we've got months and months before we have to decide those kinds of important things. Why don't you just sit down, and enjoy this gorgeous dinner which I have painstakingly prepared for you, and then if you like, we can talk about baby names some more. Okay?"

"Mhmm," replied Hermione as she buried her face into Fred's shirt as she hugged him. "Sounds good, but I think I might go to bed after dinner. I seem to be so much more tired at the end of the day, now that I am pregnant. Gosh, it still feels strange saying that: I am not even twenty-one and _pregnant_, with a baby."

"And I couldn't be happier," replied Fred as he leaned down to give his wife a kiss on the cheek.


	20. Chapter 19

_**Apologies that it has taken me so long to update. Between work and uni commitments, I have an 80-hour week. Hopefully, today's extra long update makes up for it. Like most other writers, I enjoy reading reviews, so I would really appreciate it if you put in the effort to help me improve my work.**_

**Chapter 19:Toujours la pour toi**

**Always There For You**

By August, just enough time had passed for Hermione's stomach to round a little more. Shopping in Diagon Alley, she would often see old school mates and others that she knew. Although Hermione's middle had gained a few pounds, it was not always obvious that she was pregnant, and she found it amusing when she caught these people staring at her stomach as they tried to decide whether or not it was appropriate to comment.

It was one of these kinds of afternoons that Hermione came across her mother-in-law stocking up on ingredients that looked like they might be used to make some kind of a home-remedy. They stayed chatting for a few minutes, unconcerned about the passing time until Mrs Weasley mentioned Hermione's parents.

"I told Arthur to get rid of that blasted thing – telephone, I think it's called – but now I almost wish I hadn't. I might have used it to contact your mother and father once in awhile, just for a quick chat. How are they going, dear?"

This struck Hermione dumb for a moment. It had made her realise that she really had no idea about how her parents were. She had not written to them, or indeed telephoned them, in several weeks.

"They're fine...busy I expect. I've also been working late...haven't really had the chance to chat with them for too long," Hermione stammered out.

Molly swiftly patted her daughter-in-law on the shoulder.

"Don't go working too hard, dear. You have to think about what's best for the baby. Will we be seeing you on Sunday for lunch?"

"Sure, Molly. Fred and I will be there around eleven-thirty, if that's alright with you?"

"Of course! Now, I won't hold you up for any longer dear. You get on with your shopping, and I'll see you on Sunday. Send my love to Fred."

"I will," replied Hermione, as she gave Molly a perfunctory hug, slightly distracted by the thoughts that their conversations had instigated. She quickly made a mental note to chat with her mother, at least, before the end of the day.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"Fred?"

Hermione's voice rang out through their flat, quiet but clear.

"Yeah?"

Fred's slightly muffled reply could be heard coming from the bathroom. Surmising that Fred must be using the bathroom for its intended purpose, Hermione let him be and continued past so that she could get changed out of her work clothes.

Several minutes later, Hermione emerged to find that Fred had yet to finish in the bathroom.Finding the door slightly ajar, she briefly knocked, and before waiting for a reply she pushed the door open.

Hermione did not even know what to think of the scene which materialised before her as she opened the door. Fred was sitting on the floor, a miniature cauldron was at his feet, and an old-fashioned muggle gas mask was adorning his face, preventing copious amounts of dark purple fumes from entering his nostrils.

Seeing Hermione enter the ill-ventilated room, he immediately squawked and ran at her gently but efficiently ushering her out of the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him with one hand, he pulled the mask from his face with the other hand.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded of her, ignoring the angry look that was quickly contorting onto Hermione's face.

"What am I doing?" she cried out, finally able to find her voice. "I think what you are doing raises a few more pertinent questions."

Fred took a moment to close his eyes and exhale one long, drawn-out breath.

"Look, I didn't mean to get angry with you Hermione, but I just don't know if that stuff is safe for the baby. It's for the shop. George couldn't do it at his place because of Angie, and I wasn't expecting you back for another couple of hours."

Fred must have seen that Hermione was not convinced by his argument, and so he continued to speak.

"You just walked in on the experiment going wrong. That's all."

Hermione was still only partially placated by his explanation, and she could not help but retort.

"Then why couldn't you do it at the shop, if it is not safe for a pregnant woman? Why did you have to muck up our clean bathroom?"

Fred shrugged his shoulders, using the extra time he had created for himself to grope around in his brain for an adequate excuse.

"We're running out of room at the shop for all out different experiments. If business continues the way it is, we may actually have to locate to new, much larger premises."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, not able to find a suitable counter-argument.

"Fine, well I just came to tell you that we're having dinner at my parents' place on Saturday. Also, I met your Mum in Diagon Alley today, and we're having lunch at the Burrow on Sunday."

"Eating pants, it is," replied Fred with a quick grin before he enveloped his arms around Hermione's frame. "I really am sorry. I just didn't want either of you harmed, that's all."

Melting somewhat into Fred's embrace, Hermione allowed herself to accept his apology.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't snap at you. Just let me know next time. Deal?"

"Deal."

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"So, Mum. How have you and Dad been lately?"

Hermione was looking at Marian as she bustled around the kitchen, itching to help with dinner; however, Marian had resolutely refused to let her help stating that she was now a guest in this house, and guests did not help prepare the evening meal.

"Oh, we've been our usual selves, darling. Did I tell you that I've decided to enrol in a course at the local community centre?"

Hermione only nodded, allowing her mother to continue.

"Yes, well, ever since your father retired and has been at home all the time, I've been racking my brains trying to think of a way to get out of the house. There's what seems to be a lovely cake decorating course that runs for four weeks. We're not big cake-eaters, obviously, but it's a good skill to have for parties, and that kind of thing."

Hermione continued to nod her head at her mother, adding in encouraging communicative noises at the appropriate moments.

"... and I'll finish the cake course just in time to start the flower-arranging one in October..."

Marian continued to speak, and Hermione could not help but feel a little grateful that her mother had found something in her life to focus on other than dentistry and her daughter. Often, when she was growing up, she found her parents' attention on her rather stifling. They were high-achievers and wanted the same for their only child, but at times Hermione couldn't have been happier to have Hogwarts to get away from their attention.

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Hermione excused herself from her mother's presence.

"I'll just pop outside to see how Fred and Dad are getting along. It's starting to get dark out there. Should I let them know that dinner is almost done?"

Marian agreed with her daughter, silently waving her out of the kitchen as she put the finishing touches on the meal.

Hopping off the stool, Hermione made her way over to the door that lead from the kitchen into the back garden. Admiring the pathway of violets that her father had been painstakingly cultivating since Hermione was a small girl, she noticed several new rose plants. She felt a small ache within her when she noticed that they were not just any roses; they were _Hermione_ roses. Suddenly she felt very guilty for wanting to escape to Hogwarts all the time when she was growing up.

Burying these feeling as quickly as she could, she followed the path to the end of the rather small garden, until it reached the place which seemed to be the domain of any aging man: the shed.

The dark, sandy coloured timber made a hollow sound as she rapped her knuckles against it, and the voices coming from within were instantly hushed. The door slowly opened a fraction; just enough for Henry to see that it was his daughter wanting access.

"Oh, it's you Hermione," he said, opening the door fully so that Hermione could see Fred standing a little farther in.

"Yes," she replied, wondering what they pair of them possibly could have been doing in there all that time. "I just came to tell you that dinner is just about done, so you should think about coming inside. Mum's made a berry crumble for dessert."

Trooping back inside, it did not take them long at all to settle themselves at the table and begin their meal. Intoxicating fruity aromas wafted around them as they ate, and Hermione's stomach grumbled for dessert, even as she was shovelling dinner into her mouth at an indecent rate.

There were several minutes where the table was mostly silent, the gentle clinking of cutlery against plates the only sound that penetrated the emptiness as each individual sought to fill their belly.

"Hermione, love, I can't help but notice that you have been a bit of a stranger with us lately. Is work really getting in the way that much?" said Henry after everyone had had the chance to make a good dent in their meals.

Swallowing a mouthful of food, Hermione took a small sip of water to clear her throat before answering her father.

"Fred and I have indeed been busy lately. I'm trying to get as ahead as I possibly can so that I can take a few months off after the baby is born; business is booming for Fred and George as well at the shop. Just the other day, Fred was saying how they might need to relocate to somewhere that has more space for them to test products."

Although she could not justify it to herself, Hermione was conscious of her need to make Fred seem as wonderful as possible to her parents. She was always careful to remind them that he owned a successful business, along with prime real estate; that he had a large and loving family which she was welcomed into without any hesitation. Yet, paradoxically, she did not want her parents to know any of this. She did not want to enlighten them of the magical part of her life. It felt like too much of a betrayal for all the sacrifices that her parents had made for her, in the muggle world.

Feeling that she had grown up with the best of both worlds, Hermione wanted any children that she had in her life to experience the best parts of her childhood, that is, the parts that did not involve Voldemort.

Inspired by these ruminations, Hermione could not help but interject during a lull in the conversation.

"Mum, Dad, do you remember how we said that our baby is going to have to be born at St. Mungo's in order for the birth to be properly registered?"

Marian looked at her daughter in confusion, wondering where the conversation could possibly be heading.

"Yes, dear. Of course, we remember you saying that."

Hermione took a deep breath, ignoring the perplexed look that Fred was giving her.

"Well, I want you to know that, despite the rules that have been set by the Ministry; we want our child to grow up with as much non-magical influence as there will be magical influence... and that means that I would like your help where possible. I have great memories of growing up, with you as my parents, and I want our son to be able to have that as well, if you are willing."

Hermione could hear Henry clear his throat several times, and she could see tears beginning to pool at the corners of Marian's eyes. She felt Fred's hand find hers under the table, and a sense of calm washed over her as he used his thumb to rub gentle circles on the back of her hand.

"Of course we will be there for our grandchild, love," said Henry after several relatively silent moments. "Your mother and I will always be there for you and for Fred as well."

**HPHPHPHPH**

Hermione and Fred did not stay too long after dinner had finished. Barely able to keep her eyes open any longer, Hermione yawned a quick goodbye to her parents before allowing Fred to guide her out.

"We had a really lovely time, thank you for having us," said Fred to Hermione's parents as they were walking out the front door.

"It was out pleasure," replied Marian, beaming with obvious joy."Just remember that you're always welcome here."

Although Hermione was feeling rather drowsy, she could not help but notice that her father had pulled Fred aside slightly, and the pair was talking rather quietly amongst themselves.

Not making appoint of it in the moment, Hermione waited until she and Fred were at home and tucked up in bed before she allowed her inherent curiosity to get the better of her.

"I noticed that you and Dad are getting along rather well. I could hardly get a word in edgewise between the two of you."

"We are getting along," Fred affirmed before falling silent once more.

Hermione could sense that Fred had something more to say to her, and so she stayed quiet; watching his face as he attempted to articulate what he was feeling.

"I want you to know," he said after a protracted pause, "that I absolutely agree with what you said tonight at dinner. That is, I think that we really should focus on giving our son the best of both words: magical and muggle. He ought to know what made both of his parents who they are...it's what your Dad and I were talking about today. I was trying to convince him that you would never want or try to abandon your life with them."

He suddenly reached out to Hermione, taking her arm into his lap. Slowly, he lifted the sleeve of her pyjamas, tracing the scars that were carved into her skin one by one, until the whole word was revealed.

"What that woman did to you was beyond disgusting," he whispered so softly that Hermione was not quite sure that she heard him. "There is no shame in being who you are."

Shuffling herself across the bed so that she was closer to Fred, Hermione wrapped the arm closest to him around his shoulder so that she was hugging him.

"I know that, and I'm glad that we agree."

Fred reciprocated, putting his own arms around Hermione, using this leverage to move them down the bed so that they were lying down properly. It was in this position, feeling content as they were wrapped in each other's arms that they fell asleep.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Tout ce donc j'ai besoin**

**All That I Need**

Summer seemed to end far too briskly, in Hermione's opinion. Although the days were still rather warm, the early mornings and evenings brought a cool breeze that cut right through you if you had the inconvenience of forgetting your jacket. However, in amongst a multitude of meeting agendas, family events and the excitement of little Victorie learning how to roll around on the floor, Hermione forgot that even though her own child was unborn, she still had to attend to him.

Despite the circumstances under which he had been conceived, Hermione felt that her son deserved nothing but the very best, and she loved him although she had technically never met him. It was during one of these rare moments of reflection that Hermione realised that she and Fred had done very little to physically prepare for their impending arrival.

Most other parents had gone out to buy cribs, clothes, bottles and toys as soon as the pregnancy test, still dripping with urine, came out positive. After the difficulty involved in getting pregnant, the whole incident involving Hermione finally finding out that she was pregnant, and the hectic months that followed, she had barely had a moment to catch her breath, let alone prepare for how her life was irreversibly going to change even more than what it already had.

So, it was with these thoughts in mind that Fred and Hermione set out to purchase what was apparently required to raise a baby to be the most productive member of society that he or she could be.

Having already done some research, Hermione decided that the dedicated stores in Diagon Alley were charging prices which she deemed exorbitant. After grabbing a warm coat, her purse in one hand, and Fred in the other she dragged them both around to the muggle stores which she had been eyeing recently.

It felt odd to her to finally enter one of these stores. Hermione had admittedly spent a short amount of time in her life cooing at the cuddly toys and cute bibs as she peered into shop windows when walking past baby stores, however, now that the time had come to make a definitive decision, she had to admit that she felt completely overwhelmed.

She and Fred stopped just inside the door of the first store, and it took all of Hermione's self control not to hyperventilate. Feeling the gentle, reassuring pressure of Fred squeezing her hand, she followed him over to where there were a number of cribs lined up. Hermione had seen some pretty strange things in her eventful life, but nothing compared to the selection of cribs here. There were some which had an in-built baby cry sensor; some converted into a bed for toddlers; whilst others were draped in so much gauzy fabric Hermione was sure that she would have to send out a search party when it came time to find her child after she put him down for a nap. Whatever happened to being able to find a plain and simple wooden crib for a baby?

The couple meandered up the aisles of products, finally seeing a crib that was mostly what they were looking for, and this one had the bonus of having drawers underneath as added storage. Moving on to change tables, they were faced with the same dilemma. There was everything there but a simple change table. Hermione just thanked her lucky stars that she and Fred did not own a car. She did not even want to fathom the thought of having to make another major purchase for the baby. Her feet were already beginning to ache, and her head was beginning to pound.

"Why don't we head over to the cafe across the street for some lunch?" Fred said, sensing that Hermione could not take much more.

Hermione nodded weakly, and allowed Fred to guide her across the street once they had paid for what they wanted.

"I'm okay," she said once she had settled herself in a seat. "I'm just not used to spending so much time standing up when I've got this extra weight to carry around. I was thinking that after we get some lunch, we can head over to this other baby store which is just down the road. I heard that they had some good quality baby clothes for a reasonable price."

After getting almost no response from Fred, she reached out and poked his arm where it was resting across the table.

"Are _you_ alright? You've hardly said a word all day. In fact, I've done most of the discussions and bargaining with sales assistants."

This seemed to knock Fred out of his stupor, and he shook his head slightly like a dog ridding its ears of water.

"Wha'? Yeah, I'm fine."

This did not convince Hermione in the slightest.

"Are you _sure_?"

Fred sighed, and began playing with one of the salt shakers that sat in front of him.

"It just feels weird, all of this. Seeing and buying all the baby things have just made it all really hit home. It's one thing to cuddle someone else's baby and enjoy it, but quite another to actually be responsible for that baby."

Hermione finally understood what Fred was getting at. He was merely voicing the same arguments which she had been ruminating on since even before she became pregnant.

"I remember," she said after a short pause, almost whispering so that those sitting at the tables around them would not be able to hear what she was saying; "coming into Diagon Alley for the first time. I very clearly remember getting my Hogwarts letter, it feels like it was yesterday. But the fact is, it wasn't yesterday. It wasn't even last year. It was actually nine years ago. I shudder slightly when I think of how fast those nine, almost ten years have passed, and how different my life has turned out to what I expected."

Fred smirked slightly. "Can you think of what our life is going to be like nine or ten years from now?

Hermione felt a surge of pleasure roll through her as she contemplated the next decade or so, and yet at the same time she felt a sense of awe. Thinking of the future was not something that Hermione had done a lot of as she was growing up because it often led to dark thoughts, and miserable heartache. There was a time when she thought that she would not have a future beyond the next minute.

"I'm not sure that I want to think about what life is going to be like ten years from now. It seems more than a little scary."

Peering down at the menu in front of her, Hermione squinted at the various choices, allowing her brain time to think of how she phrased her next words.

"There was one thing that I learned when I spent that year on the run with Harry and Ron. That one thing was to live in the moment; all that you need in life is what is present in the moment you are in."

"How true," Fred replied being as enigmatic as ever.


	22. Chapter 21

_**Double update today because I'm so excited about the chapters :)**_

_**Let me know what you think of them**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 21: Molly and Lucy<strong>

Hermione could not help but thank her lucky stars that magic was a part of her life with Fred.

One of them was sure to have ended up murdered by the other, if magic had not been interjected at various points when it came to decorating the spare bedroom of their flat to resemble a baby's nursery.

Fred had wanted to put together the cot properly, that is, the muggle way. However, he had also adamantly refused to read the instructions that came with it. Apparently, they were "useless". However, a the dangerous mixture of Hermione's hormones and Fred's inexperience did not seem to blend well, and soon an argument was taking shape starting with a mild 'what-piece-joins-to-this-one' before escalating to a full-blown, "well,-it's-not-my-fault-that-I'm-pregnant-you-did -half-the-work".

Finally, Hermione asked Fred to help her stand up from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, so that she could retrieve her wand. In a grand total of three seconds, the cot stood completely assembled before them; and Hermione was standing with a smug look on her face.

Fred however got his revenge when it was time to paint the room.

Hermione wanted to paint the room without magic, as she had done it before with some success. However, she had not taken into account a very pregnant, protruding stomach region. Therefore, Fred was standing with a very self-satisfied expression on his face after he had set the paintbrushes to work on their own. However, this lasted only as long as it took Hermione to swipe a wet paintbrush across his face, and poke her tongue out in retaliation.

Although Hermione had absolutely refused to have a baby shower, she noticed that her family and friends could not help but pop in every so often with a "little something" they couldn't resist and just _had_ to buy for the baby. The drawers in the baby's dresser were slowly becoming rather full, but even Hermione had to admit that she was grateful for their generosity. If nothing else, it saved her time when she did not have to go shopping for baby clothes, blankets, bottles and all the other necessary tools apparently required to raise a baby correctly.

Whilst the summer had been deliciously warm at some points, the air was now much cooler when Hermione rose out of bed in the morning now that cooler weather was approaching.

However, Autumn was not the only thing which was approaching. Dee's due date was speeding closer and closer, and to Hermione she seemed more enormous than any pregnant woman she had ever seen before. She knew this was because she was carrying double the regular load, but her protruding stomach was simply astonishing.

Over a quick coffee date one Saturday morning, Dee told Hermione how she could already tell a lot about the personality of her babies. One of them seemed to be rather mellow and reserved, whilst the other was always ready for action. The quiet one was very much a morning person, according to Dee, as it could be felt gently kicking at her diaphragm at five-thirty every morning. The other baby was very much a night-owl and had a habit of pounding on her bladder late at night, making sleep almost impossible.

"At least I'll have one who a bit more chilled out," said Dee to Hermione before taking a sip of her latte.

"Can you really tell what the baby's personality will be like?" asked Hermione, astounded that she had not thought of it herself earlier.

"Well, yes. I like to think so, anyway," replied Dee, chuckling at Hermione's simultaneously shocked and annoyed expression. "What has your little one been like?"

Hermione thought back over the last couple of months where the baby had started to move around a lot more. Was the baby quiet? Or was her son slightly more obnoxious and 'loud'?

"Hmmm, it's a bit difficult to say, actually. It really varies depending on the day, and also how I'm feeling. I have to remember to calm down a bit more, because I think that the baby picks up on my emotions. When I'm stressed, he's more active. When I'm calm, he's calm. Not all the time, obviously, but I would say that's the general pattern."

"Perhaps that's a bit of a hint to 'take a chill pill' as my brother used to say," chuckled Dee. "You're still working at the Ministry, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded as she took a sip of her coffee.

"But only for a little while longer. I might spend the majority of the day sitting at my desk, but that doesn't stop my feet and hands from swelling. How are you coping being pregnant with twins? Surely, there is not that much longer until they are born."

"Mhmm," replied Dee with a nod. "Just a little over a week until the doctor wants to deliver them. He says it's safer for me to deliver them slightly earlier because they are twins. It was rather funny at my last appointment. He asked me what date I would like their birthday to be on!"

Hermione chuckled, but also thought ahead to her own due date. Her son was due to be born around Christmas time. She and Fred would begin the New Year as a proper little family. It was a thought that both terrified and excited her.

"Hermione?...Hermione, are you okay?"

Dee's voice startled Hermione out of her reverie.

"Hmm, yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about some stuff, it wasn't all that important. Actually, do you and Percy have any names picked out yet?"

Dee rolled her eyes at this slightly, but it was by no means in reference to Hermione's question, it was simply Dee's way of venting her frustration on the topic.

"Let's just say that Perce and I are lucky that we can pick a name each. There is no way in the world that we would be able to settle on just one name for one baby."

"He he, I guess Fred and I are not the only ones having trouble in that department," Hermione giggled, as she took another sip of her hot drink. "I keep trying to think of serious names that we could actually use, whilst he suggests something as silly as Argus or Godric".

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in frustration; Dee on the other hand snorted into her drink and had to use several napkins to clean the beige stain on her white coat.

"Could you just imagine a Godric Weasley being called out by the sorting hat at Hogwarts? Now _that_ would be funny."

Hermione indulged herself with a small smile, knowing that Fred didn't mean any harm with his light-heartedness; however, the baby's birth was a little over a month away, and Hermione was not accustomed to feeling disorganised. Not having a name for the baby made her feel incredibly disorganised.

"Anyway, I've got to get going," said Dee, standing up using her chair as a kind of support frame as she re-established her centre of gravity. "I've promised Percy that I won't stay out for too long now that the babies are due so soon. Give my love to Fred!"

Giving Hermione a quick goodbye hug, she toddled off down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron where she would be able to escape into Muggle London.

It was only a matter of days before Hermione and Fred received a small, but thoroughly embellished card via owl post. Hermione immediately recognised the small, neat script of Percy announcing the recent arrival of Molly Georgiana and Lucy Magdalena Weasley.

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><p><em><strong>Don't forget to review!<strong>_


	23. Chapter 22

_**Warning: This chapter does get a little graphic towards the end, so if you start feeling uncomfortable about it, by all means stop reading. Use your own judgement. **_

_**It would really mean a lot to me if you reviewed this chapter in particular :)**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 22: Six:Dix-Sept<strong>

**Six: Seventeen**

The ringing sound seemed to pierce through Hermione's dreams and almost became a part of them as she slept. Therefore, it was possibly a minute or two before she woke up enough to realise that it was in fact the telephone that was ringing, and not the ambulance that was in her dream.

Fred muttered a number of expletives under his breath about the telephone, but ultimately he rolled over to the side of the bed which was away from Hermione, and promptly fell back to sleep.

Hermione felt only confusion, and not merely because Fred had successfully managed to ignore a ringing telephone at three in the morning. Sitting upright, she quickly hauled herself out of bed and tried to get to phone before it woke up all the neighbours.

"Hello?" was all that she could manage in her croaky voice.

"Darling, is that you?"

Marian's voice on the other side of the line was hurried and sounded remarkably anxious. Hermione was almost positive that she could also hear other voices in the background. She was not accustomed to hearing her mother speak in such a way, and her previously foggy brain cleared rather quickly as she felt adrenaline begin to surge through her body.

"Mum? Is everything alright, I-"

But before she had the chance to ask any questions, Marian was already explaining.

"Darling, it's your father. We've just had an ambulance bring him into the A&E of the hospital. The doctors are doing a bit of a once-over on him now to try and figure out what's wrong, but they think that it's got something to do with his heart."

Hermione own heart started to race at the thought of her father being unwell. Fortunately her mother was calm and collected enough to be able to convey all the necessary details of the hospital's location. Despite all of this, it was the final thing that her mother said before hanging up that sent a chill down Hermione's spine.

"The doctor's think that it would be a very good idea if you and Fred come down as soon as possible to see your father."

Hermione did not know how to properly respond to this, so after a hurried goodbye, she dropped the receiver of the phone and immediately ran into their bedroom to wake Fred and tell him the unfortunate news.

Leaning down across her side of the bed, she quickly shook him awake and explained the situation. In no time at all they were dressed and in a cab, heading to the hospital. Hermione was thankful that there was very little traffic on the road and that they were getting there in record time. Fred had wanted to take the Knight Bus, because it would be faster, but Hermione had more than enough experience with Ernie's driving and did not want to risk it during pregnancy. Therefore, they trooped through the 'Leaky Cauldron' to muggle London to hail a cab.

Hermione and Fred did not say a word to one another as they travelled down the brightly lit streets of London. After all, what would be an acceptable thing to say when someone you loved was so ill that they may not make it? The only sound present was Hermione repeatedly snapping the buttons of her cardigan opened and closed, whilst Fred kept tapping his fingers against the armrest on the door.

Arriving at the hospital, Hermione paid the cab driver. Fred had become more proficient with muggle money, however, when a situation became stressful he still made mistakes, and neither of them could afford the time that a mistake would cost them.

Hurtling themselves out of the car, the pair sped towards a pair of automatic doors which were labelled as the main entrance to the hospital. A woman sat at the front reception desk, her eyes glued to the computer screen in front of her as she took a sip from a polystyrene cup which gave a faint aroma of cheap coffee mixed with burning plastic.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked, looking up at them with an annoyed expression. Clearly she was not happy to have them interrupt her.

"We are here to see Henry Granger. We have been told that he was in the emergency department a short while ago."

The woman turned back to her computer and closed the game of Solitaire which had been sitting open on the desktop. Bringing up a new window, she scrolled through several pages of names before finding 'Granger, H'.

"He is still in Emergency according to the computer. Go down that corridor, and towards the left there is another hallway which will take you from here to the A&E department."

Hermione quietly thanked the woman, and grabbed Fred's hand in her own, leading them both in the direction the woman had pointed them in. Speeding down the various corridors, the couple soon faced the immensely busy Accident and Emergency Department of the hospital.

However, all they could really see at the moment was what appeared to be wall after wall of pale blue curtains, shielding the ill occupants within. Not knowing where to go, Hermione turned to look at her husband. Looking up to his face, she could see his eyes fixated on the nurses' station up ahead.

They approached what Hermione assumed to be a nurse, standing behind the desk, who might be able to give them a bit of direction. Her honey-blonde hair was tied back, revealing what might have been a kind face if it did not have the tell-tale signs of prolonged stress etched into it.

"Hello. I'm looking for a Henry Granger. I was told that he was still down here...I'm his daughter."

The nurse swiftly turned her head to look at the whiteboard behind her.

"Hmmm... Henry Granger...ah, yes, he's in bed 4. We're still waiting for the doctor to review him properly."

Hermione politely thanked the woman, and looked towards bed 4. The curtains were parted just enough for Hermione to be able to make out her mother's brown curls, pulled haphazardly to the back of her head.

Fred hurried Hermione over to where her family was, wanting her fears to be relieved as quickly as possible. Hopefully she would see that her Dad was fine after all, and being in hospital was just a precautionary thing; however, when Fred opened the curtains, he couldn't help but be shocked at what he saw.

He was so accustomed to seeing his father-in-law as a vivacious and gregarious man, but now, he was lying in bed, eyes closed and barely able to support his own posture as he lay against the elevated backrest of the bed.

"Dad?"

Hermione's voice was so small and pitiful that Fred immediately wanted to scoop her up into his arms and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But he could not help the sinking feeling that was currently swooping through his gut.

"Mione, is that you darling?"

Hermione rushed forward and took her father's hand in hers. Even his voice was weak as he spoke.

"Yes, Dad. It's me. What happened? Why are you in hospital?"

Henry took in a great wheezing breath before he was able to give Hermione an answer. Fred could literally hear the whistle of air through his airways from the distance at which he was standing. It was not a good sign.

"I wasn't feeling well after dinner... thought it was a bit of indigestion at first... the doc that looked over me quickly thinks it my heart, but they still need to do a few more tests."

"Oh, Dad. It'll be alright. I'm sure whatever it is, they can fix you up and you'll be at home in no time."

"No, darling," he said, trying his best to adjust the oxygen nasal prongs with the one hand that wasn't being held by his daughter. Hermione loosened her grip, and took the prongs out of his struggling hand to reposition them so that they were more comfortable. She felt Fred move behind her to rub her back in a slow, soothing manner.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Of course, you'll be coming home. You know, it wasn't a question."

"I don't think so, my dear... I don't know if I am going to be able to make it."

"Don't say things like that!" Hermione squeaked, tears pooling quickly in the corners of her eyes, threatening to brim over as everyone around them seemed to fall silent.

"I love you all very much, and I'm proud of what you've become, but I'm just so very tired," said Henry, closing his eyes once more, seemingly to rest after the effort that was required to merely speak.

Hermione once again took his hand in hers as she felt someone move a chair behind her so that she could sit down. She stared at her father, thinking about what a strong man he had been all of her life. She took in all of his facial features, so similar to her own.

A lot of people often told Hermione of how much she looked like her mother, but she had long since recognised that there was a great deal of her father within her as well.

Gazing at him for a few moments longer, Hermione could not help but get the feeling that something was rather off about her father – apart from the obvious.

She noticed that his face was a shade paler than what it had been when she first came in, and that the edges of his lips had the slightest tinge of blue to them. Was he even getting enough oxygen from the nasal prongs?

That was when she realised.

Her father had stopped breathing.

His chest was no longer moving up and down as it should.

Letting out a blood-curdling scream, Hermione stood from her chair and tried to shake her father awake.

A small stampede of footsteps could be heard before several nurses came running, poking their heads around the pale blue of the curtain. Seeing Henry slumped in his bed, they immediately sprung into action.

One nurse was pulling Marian and Fred away, whilst another removed the headrest of the bed, and pulled down the backrest so that Henry was laying flat on his back. A third nurse was already running back with an enormous silver trolley. The first nurse was now trying to pull Hermione to join the remainder of her family, but Hermione would not budge.

Hermione looked on with wide eyes as the second nurse had pulled down Henry's hospital gown and hauled herself directly onto the bed, immediately compressing his chest at a rapid rate as she counted them out loud.

"...twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!"

The blonde nurse, who had given them directions earlier, was now standing at the head of the bed. She clamped an oxygen mask over Henry's mouth and nose as the compressions ceased, and delivered two measured doses of air into his lungs.

The compressions resumed.

"One, two, three, four..."

This cycle continued, and all the while Hermione watched in terror as the nurses continued to work on her father. Her own heart was pumping furiously within her chest, and the baby was doing somersaults within her abdomen. She would have given the world to be able to rip her own heart out of her chest and transplant it into her father. It was a wild idea, but Hermione was getting more and more desperate with every ineffective cycle of CPR.

Phrases of speech kept flitting in and out of Hermione's mind.

"_Code Blue!"_

"_...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen..." _

"_...shock not advised..."_

A doctor came in, and pulled open the fourth drawer in the trolley. From here, she pulled out and unwrapped a loaded syringe. Briskly swabbing the cannula in Henry's arm, she held the syringe up to check for air bubbles before swiftly pulsing the clear liquid directly into his veins.

Fred had come back in to try and pull Hermione away from the scene, but even he could not get her to move. Even Fred couldn't help be a little transfixed at what was happening around him. _This_ was muggle medicine. _This_ was what they did to sick people.

"Please Hermione, he begged her in spite of his own feelings. "Just let them do their job."

Hermione shook her head, and watched on, unable to tear herself away from her father. A few minutes passed. The doctor swabbed the cannula again with a tiny alcohol wipe, and yet another dose of clear liquid was delivered into her father. Feeling utterly helpless, Fred backed out of the space and went to comfort his thoroughly distressed mother-in-law.

The minutes ticked by, and Hermione could see the nurses were getting tired with the immense effort required to perform even one set of compressions onto her father's chest. The doctor looked like she were running out of options, and the blue tinge that had begun on the corners of Henry's lips had now spread to cover his whole mouth.

The nurses had been compressing his chest vigorously; Hermione was sure that she heard something crack at some point. Perhaps a rib had broken whilst another cycle had begun.

"_One, two, three, four..."_

Yet more time passed, and the nurses pushed themselves to their own limits with the help of the doctor, who continued to shout instructions. A small plastic tube had been placed into her father's mouth, with the tip of it resting slightly out of his mouth. She supposed that this was to make sure that the oxygen the nurses were giving him was actually getting past his throat, and into his lungs. The nurses had stopped giving two measured breaths, and were now ensuring that there was a continuous flow going into his lungs. Even above the continuous sound of counting and beeps, and other noise, Hermione could hear the pressured whoosh of oxygen moving into Henry.

Hermione could also distantly hear her mother's sobbing from the other side of the curtain, and Fred's gentle murmurs of comfort. Every so often the curtain would part and he would check that Hermione was still doing okay. He had long since tried her get her away from what was happening. Nothing that he could say or do would work. Hermione was too fixated on what was happening with her father.

In fact, she was so fixed on her father that she did not notice the desperate look that the nurse gave the doctor. She did not see the doctor nod back at each of the nurses as a defibrillator yet again did not deliver a shock despite the fact that her father's heart was still not beating.

Without a word, each of the nurses stepped away from Henry, dropping their arms by their sides in a helpless manner, whilst the doctor stepped forward a little closer, ceasing all verbal instruction to the nurses.

She placed her hand on his chest, checking to see if his chest was moving spontaneously.

She counted down to his fifth rib, and placed the stethoscope from around her neck to a point in the middle of this line before listening for several minutes. Then, she ran her fingers along the side of Henry's neck, pushing in at certain points.

Finally, she moved to look into his face. Gently lifting his eyelids with one hand, she used her other hand to manoeuvre a pen light to pulse light directly into his eyes.

Shaking her head, she then she moved away herself. Her voice seemed exhausted and full of sadness when she finally spoke, staring at the clock above the bed as she did so.

"Time of death... oh-six-seventeen hours."

* * *

><p><em><strong>I tried to make the medical emergency part of this scene as realistic as possible, but I've never seen a real cardiac arrest. Also, I don't know the policies and procedures used in the UK for cardiac arrest, so I've just gone by what I know of Australian standards (i.e. where I live).<strong>_

_**Remember, I can't read minds, and a review is the best way to let me know what you think :)**_


	24. Chapter 23

** Chapter 23: Famille**

**Family**

Hermione had experienced grief before.

It was this part of her life which she had dealt with since adolescence, and now it had reared its ugly head in young adulthood.

It was something which she thought that she would have been able to escape after Hogwarts. Voldemort had been defeated, and therefore her life would be good. That was how she had worked out the equation in her head; however, now that she had the chance to properly reflect, she realised how naive and childish this sounded.

She ought to have known better than to expect a better life. Perhaps she didn't deserve one, and that was why bad things kept happening to her.

On the odd occasions when she would speak, her voice would be hoarse from disuse.

When she ate, it was only because Fred reminded her that the baby needed something to eat too.

The death of her father had also brought forward the beginning of Hermione's maternity leave, and this left her with all day to ruminate on her thoughts.

Hermione had somehow convinced herself that all she wanted to do was stay in bed al day; however, being almost eight months pregnant made this almost impossible. A pregnant body was simply not made for spending all day in a supine position. In a fit of frustration, Hermione then started to pace.

One step at a time, she would walk up and down the small amount of space that made up her lounge room and kitchen, feeling so utterly despondent hat her face would literally show no emotion at all. Her arms would either hang limply by her sides, or gently rub the top of her stomach when the baby kicked at her ribs.

At first, Fred let this happen, thinking that perhaps this was Hermione's way of dealing with the recent death of her father. After all, she was only dealing with the news of her father's sudden death. She had watched as the doctors and nurses do everything they could, only for it to fail.

One week passed, then two weeks went by, and still Hermione remained within her stupor. Fred was completely at a loss about how to deal with this situation. In the past, he and his family had grieved together. That was how they had gotten through everything that had gone on. Hermione, however, was refusing to let anyone in. Her face remained an impenetrable mask.

Fred, doing what he always had done, turned to his mother for support.

Molly tried to hide her worry with the food that she brought around every couple of days– all of Hermione's favourites – but would inevitably end up leaving their flat with her mouth set in a grim line as she bestowed her son with a hug and words of comfort and luck. She maintained the hope that Hermione would deliver the baby in less than a couple of weeks, and that would be enough to spur her into her old self.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Immense pressure.

That was all that Hermione could feel low in her pelvis as she lay in bed. She was trying her hardest to get a few extra hours of sleep under her belt. The baby was due in just a few days, and sleep was something that she desperately needed before then.

However, the only problem was that she needed to keep using the loo all the time.

Doing her best to wiggle her body over to the edge of the bed, Hermione swung her legs over the side and forced herself into a sitting position.

Her vision went a bit funny for moment – lots of black spots that took a few seconds to clear – before her dizziness cleared and everything righted itself, and she was able to get herself up to go to the toilet.

Not wanting to wake Fred, she did not turn on any lamps. Instead she grazed her fingertips against the walls and furniture to determine her position as she walked around their flat. After bumping her upper arms and hips into various bits of clutter, unseen in the dark, she made it to the bathroom where she was able to finally give herself a bit of light.

Although Hermione relieved herself with no mishap whatsoever, however, she found that the feeling of pressure within her abdomen did not alleviate as it usually did after she had used the toilet. Using one hand to hold onto the edge of the bathtub, and the other supporting her lower back, she attempted to get herself into a standing position.

However, putting weight onto her legs seemed to prove more difficult that what she expected, and with a light thud she landed back onto the toilet seat after only being able to hover several inches off the seat.

Rubbing at a sore spot on her back near the base of her spine, she braced herself once more and tried to stand again. Now, not only was her back sore but for the second time that night she was feeling dizzy.

Not wanting to compromise her safety, and simply wanting to get back to bed, Hermione opened the bathroom door a fraction and called out for her husband.

"Fred?"

There was no response.

"Fred?" she called out a little louder than before, hoping it was enough to wake him without waking their neighbours.

She was able to make out the light rustling of bed sheets before a very groggy-sounding response came out from the opened door.

"Yeah..."

"I'm in the bathroom, and I'm feeling too dizzy to stand up. Can you help me get back to bed?"

Almost immediately Hermione heard footsteps approaching, and Fred's head popped itself around the door frame.

"You okay?" he said, his voice distinctly less sleepy than what it had been previously.

"Not sure," replied Hermione. "I just got up to use the loo, and now I can't really stand up on my own. My back hurts as well...more than usual, that is."

Fred only nodded, and knelt down to help Hermione pull her pyjama pants back up to her hips. He was accustomed to the dizzy spells that Hermione had been having over the past couple of weeks. At first he thought it was because she spent so much time standing up and walking around. So, he tried to get her to rest more, but Hermione being herself simply couldn't follow through with that request.

Putting one arm around her, he used his free hand to hold onto one of hers and managed to guide Hermione to a vertical position. Almost immediately Hermione's knees almost buckled beneath her as she felt a small flood of warm liquid between her legs. Fred watched in horror as her face suddenly became devoid of colour.

Looking down, Hermione's eyes widened as she saw a dark grey patch spreading across crotch of her pale grey pants.

"No, not now..." she groaned as the pain in her back slightly intensified. It was a squeezing pain that started at her lower back and wrapped around her sides to her stomach. She closed her eyes, and slowly let out the breath that she was holding.

Fred, despite being male, was not entirely ignorant of the situation, and he knew instantly that Hermione was possibly going into labour. Well, not possibly. It was an absolute. Hermione was definitely in labour.

"Time for St Mungos?" Fred couldn't help but let out a small chuckle in his excitement. He was finally going to be able to meet his son.

"Yes," Hermione breathed out as she put her arm around Fred to further support herself.

Fortunately for them, it was a short walk down to the pub where they could get through to muggle London, and then catch a cab to the hospital.

Helping Hermione back into their room, he sat her on the edge of their bed whilst he calmly went around the room and picked out come clothes for Hermione to change into. Kneeling down before her, he gently pulled her damp pyjama pants off before guiding her feet into a clean pair of loose fitting yoga pants.

"How are you so calm?" Hermione could not help but ask Fred.

Fred smiled a little at Hermione before helping her pull her long-sleeved pyjama shirt off.

"Remember that I have a lot of siblings. Although I was young when some of them were born, there are some things that you retain the memory of no matter how young you are."

Hermione nodded at him before pulling on the clean shirt which Fred had handed to her.

"Now, can you stand up to walk down to the street or would you rather me carry you?"

Hermione's dizziness had cleared somewhat now that she had been sitting upright for a few minutes, and the pain in her back and sides had reduced to a dull ache.

"Yeah, I think I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Fred wrinkled his eyebrows, scrutinising Hermione as he stood up from his knees.

Feeling greatly reassured by Fred's obvious care and concern, she nodded her head at him once more.

"Yes. I'll let you know if I need help. I think the pain in my back was a contraction, but it's gone now, so I'm pretty sure I'll make it down before another one."

"Ok, then let's get going. The most important thing is to get you to the hospital on time. I can come back later to grab a bag with spare clothes and other things."

Hermione let Fred help her off the bed, and the pair of them slowly made their way out the front door and down the stairs to street level.

Along Diagon Alley there were no other people about, owing to the fact that it was indeed the middle of the night. Thankfully, the gas lamps were on and they were able to make the short distance to The Leaky Cauldron without mishap. Hermione only had to stop once for a contraction, and even this was quickly relieved with the help of Fred rubbing her back as they stood together in the cold air.

Thankfully the pub was empty as she and Fred walked through it and through to Charring Cross Road which was beautifully festooned with Christmas decorations. There were a few people meandering the streets on this side of the pub; however none of them paid attention to Hermione and Fred as they quickly hailed a cab and made their way to the hospital.

Hermione was still not up to verbalising how she was feeling, so Fred made a point of tightly holding onto her hand throughout the entire journey. He knew that every time that she gripped at his hand a little tighter, she was experiencing a contraction. Then, he would use his thumb to stroke the back of her hand and whisper comforting words into her ear. Although he did not outwardly show it, he would cringe a little inside whenever Hermione squeezed his hand tighter. Although he was no expert, he knew that childbirth was one of, if not the most, painful thing a woman would have to endure and he felt truly angry that the Ministry had forced this situation upon them. In that moment, Fred wanted nothing more than to put himself into her position so that she didn't have to experience it, but he knew that it was a wild and crazy idea that could not possibly eventuate.

In a relatively short space of time, they reached the hospital. Fred immediately handed over the cash needed to pay the driver, before jumping out of his side of the car and bolting over to Hermione's side. Opening her door, he helped her out of the car and together they made their way to the entrance of the hospital. This time, they had to stop twice on the way in because of Hermione's contractions. Without even having to time them, Fred knew that they were getting closer and closer together.

Finally making it into the hospital, the witch at the front desk directed them up to the third floor where the staff would be waiting for them to arrive.

The healers seemed rather practiced in their work, and as soon as Fred and Hermione arrived to the correct level they whisked Hermione away in a wheelchair to the delivery suite. Fred ended up having to jog slightly in order to catch up.

Hermione did not even have to do any work to get into the bed that was set up for her. The healers merely used their wands to levitate her from the wheelchair onto the thin mattress. A thin white sheet was draped over the lower half of her body, and a female healer could be heard snapping gloves onto her hands.

"If you just let your knees drop to either side, I'll be able to let you know how much you have dilated. We'll also keep a close eye on the time so that we know how far apart your contractions are. On a scale of one to ten, where do you rate your pain right now?

Obeying the requests of the midwife healer Hermione dropped her knees and tried to gauge her level of pain. It had certainly intensified on the journey to the hospital.

"It's about a five or six out of ten, during a contraction. But I would say a one or two at the moment..."

Hermione trailed off with that sentence as she felt the now familiar clenching of her abdomen. The contractions now encompassed her entire belly, not just her back and sides. Panting through it, she groped wildly at the side of the bed, looking for Fred's hand to hold onto.

"On second thoughts," she replied after the contraction was over, "I change my answer to an eight or nine out of ten. That was definitely the worst one yet."

Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Hermione's brow; however now that the contraction was over she appeared considerably calmer, considering the situation. After a moment or two of physical examination, the healer removed the gloves from his hands.

"I'd say you're only dilated about two or three centimetres, but there's still plenty of time for that to change."

**HPHPHPHPHPH**

Hermione spent the time between contractions counting out the minutes. The time between was shorter overall, however, there came a point where they simply stayed at three minutes apart.

The healer had returned for another physical examination saying that she had progressed to five centimetres.

Hermione's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"I've been here for four hours, and it's only another two centimetres!" she practically screeched. Feeling utterly exhausted already she lay herself against the mound of pillows that Fred had piled behind her on the bed.

"Yes, it is progressing rather slowly. If we don't see a significant improvement in the next couple of hours we may have to think about giving you a potion to help speed things along."

Hermione let out a massive groan.

"Why can't I just have the potion now, and get it over and done with.

The healer shook her head at Hermione.

"We had procedures and protocols to follow. You haven't yet reached the criteria for us to be allowed to give you the potion."

"Screw the protocol!"

Admittedly, Fred had to stifle a smile at Hermione's choice of words. At least she never ceased to surprise him.

"Mrs Weasley," said the healer, suddenly serious. "We can't yet give you the potion to speed up labour. I suggest that you use this opportunity to conserve your strength for the later part of labour when you will actually have to push."

Minute by minute.

That was the only way Hermione could think of to get through it. The contractions were now getting further apart. It was only a slight difference of perhaps a few seconds, and still the healer did nothing but check to see how many centimetres she had dilated.

The last fifteen minutes of the second hour seemed like they would never pass. The contractions were still happening, but with very little effect. Hermione had only dilated half a centimetre in the entire two hours.

Finally, the healer returned with a vial of slightly fluorescent purple potion.

"I do have to warn you," she said as he handed it to Hermione, "many women say that labour gets infinitely more intense after they take the potion. There is no going back from here. It is a very effective potion."

"I don't care," replied Hermione. "I just want this baby out of me!"

As soon as the potion reached her stomach, Hermione felt its effects, and whatever pain she had been feeling before tripled. It was all she could do to let out the biggest scream of her life.

**HPHPHPHPHPHP**

"Fred?" said Hermione during a lull in contractions.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice sounding much more exhausted than what it had been during the previous seven hours.

"What if I make a terrible Mum? With Dad gone, I am just feeling so overwhelmed. The other day it took all my strength just to get out of bed to shower. How am I supposed to take care of a baby?"

Another contraction took over at that point, before Fred had the chance to reply. He simply held her hand with one of his while stroking her hair with the other hand, whispering words of encouragement in her ear.

"You're doing so well, Hermione... just a little longer and we'll be able to hold and cuddle our baby, and be a proper little family."

"Fred..."

The contraction had eased enough for Hermione to stop straining, and she hunched slightly over her bent knees, tears escaping down her face.

"Fred, I can't do it anymore," she sobbed, lifting her head to look him in the eyes.

Taking her face into his hands, Fred used his thumbs to wipe away her tears.

"Yes, Hermione, you can do it. I love you so much, and I know that you're going to be just fine, and that you're going to be a brilliant Mum. You're going to make your Dad even more proud then what he was."

Hermione sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to stop it from trembling as she stared at her husband.

"You said that you loved me..."

She meant it as a statement, but it seemed to come out as more of a question. That was the first time she ever remembered him saying those words to her.

"Of course I love you. Look at what you're doing for me. How can I not love you? You're so smart, funny, beautiful, and you put up with me. What more can I ask for in a wife?" he said, punctuating his words with a kiss to her cheek.

The healer, with her impeccable timing, motioned for Hermione to drop her knees once more.

"Ok, now we're getting somewhere!" she said with a hint of triumph in her voice. "You're finally at ten centimetres. It's time to push."

With the guidance of the healer, and Fred never letting go of her hand, Hermione used every exhausted muscle within her to push out her son.

"Slowly for the shoulders..." the healer cautioned. "That's it... just a little more..."

With one final bellow expelled from her lungs and her eyes scrunched shut Hermione pushed and a loud scream rent through the air as the newest Weasley was born into the world.

"Yep, he's definitely a boy," laughed the healer as she placed the screaming baby on his mother's chest.

Opening her eyes and looking down at her newborn son, Hermione felt the greatest sense of peace pervade her being. She looked up at Fred with wide eyes only to see him looking down at the baby in awe.

With a pair of surgical scissors, the healer directed Fred to cut the umbilical cord, and the baby was whisked away to be quickly cleaned and wrapped in a warm blanket.

Hermione felt a pang in her heart as the staff took the baby away to do this, and she only took another breath when he was placed safely back into her arms.

"Hey there," she heard Fred's voice beside her. "Hey, that's your beautiful mum holding you, and I'm your daddy."

She saw Fred's finger reach out and gently stroke the baby's cheek. It felt like the room and all its distractions melted away. Hermione's heart swelled with love during this tender moment as they became a family.

Totally absorbed in the face of their little son, Hermione could not help but think of one thing which was missing.

"We never did agree on a name for a son, did we? I guess we're going to have to think quickly now."

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><p><em><strong>We are so close to the end right now! Don't forget to leave a review to let me know what you think!<strong>_


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Retour a la Maison**

**Coming Home**

The first day that Fred and Hermione brought the baby home, they did not have a name for him. Nothing they could think of sounded right to them. There was nothing that seemed special enough for what was now the most precious part of their lives.

Looking through all the baby-name books that Hermione had diligently collected only served to confuse their choices a whole lot more.

Their first instinct was to pick an elegant, old-fashioned name, which would work well with the surname of Weasley. Perhaps an Edward, or Thomas would soon join the ranks of the Weasley clan; however, they each found themselves shaking their heads as each option presented itself. Joshua and Lewis came next... then came the more modern names: Callum, Ethan, Cameron...

Fred and Hermione continued to volley names to one another at regular intervals throughout the day and even at night when his hungry cries would pierce through the darkness and waken them from their much-needed slumber.

There were even moments during the day when Fred caught himself listening to snippets of conversation from customers, hoping to catch a name idea or two which he would be able to take home to Hermione that evening.

This, of course, got Fred thinking of Hermione. His beloved wife. He wasn't quite sure exactly when he figured out that he loved her, but he supposed that it happened gradually over the course of the past year. Thinking back to the day when George came up with the idea of putting Fred and Hermione together for the 'Marriage Law' – as it had been dubbed by many – he couldn't believe how much of a fight he had put up at the time. Perhaps George had seen something within him that Fred was too scared to admit to himself at the time.

George had not been the only one who had been correct about Hermione. Molly had made an accurate prediction when she said that Hermione's spirits would lift after the birth of the baby. She had said that it would give Hermione a new sense of purpose, and something to focus on other than herself. She couldn't have been more correct.

Fred had dreaded going back to the shop for the first time since his son's birth. Not only did he have to leave his family, he had to do it right on Christmas Eve. He had no choice, really; he couldn't leave George and Verity on their own for the holiday rush. Not only did he not want to leave his family, he couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive at leaving Hermione alone with the baby. He didn't know how well she would be able to cope given her recent emotional situation, even if she had drastically improved over the past couple of days.

However, Fred only had to return to a clean flat, and contently sleeping baby and wife to know that the day had gone well. Hermione seemed to snap out of the doldrums of her grief enough to even put the Christmas tree up for them. Musing over his thoughts of the day as he climbed into bed that night, he snuggled up close to his wife, wrapping his arm gently around her sleeping form so that he would not wake her.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, an idea popped into his head, preventing him from being able to rest. He couldn't wait until the morning to ask Hermione what she thought of it.

**HPHPHPHPHPHHP**

Hermione used an extra large sized baby wrap to ensure that her son was adequately shielded from the cold air. A blizzard had struck up during the night, and even now in the daylight there was still a bit of wind whirling snow around Fred and Hermione. Marian followed closely behind, having been invited to spend her first Christmas without her husband at the Burrow with the Weasley's. Feeling thoroughly inaugurated into their family, she eagerly accepted.

Quickly pushing herself through the door of the Burrow, she felt her cheeks instantly colour pink with the heat of the sitting room. Placing the baby safely into her mother's hands Hermione whipped her coat off and put it out of the way. She took the baby back just in time to be greeted by Molly and Arthur.

"Ooh, would you look at all that red hair!" Molly exclaimed, immediately scooping him up for a cuddle. "I suppose there's no escaping it. Have you and Fred picked out a name yet?"

Hermione felt Fred move closer to her, putting his arm around her waist.

"Yes," he replied. "We've decided to name him Henry Frederick, after Hermione's father and myself, respectively."

Molly beamed at the couple before passing Henry onto Arthur so that she would also be able to properly greet Marian.

"I love you," Hermione heard Fred whisper into her ear as they walked around to greet the other family members which had arrived before them. She felt his arm drop from around her waist so that he would be able to grab her hand, and lift it to his lips for a kiss. Now that both Fred and Hermione knew that they actually loved one another, they had become infinitely more affectionate and forward with one another. To Hermione it now felt like it was okay to reveal more about herself, because she knew that Fred loved her and would accept her either way.

Hermione grinned at him before whispering back.

"I love you too."

"This year has been something hasn't it?" said Fred, his voice now at a normal volume.

Hermione let out her first real laugh in weeks.

"It surely has been something. Getting married to you, Dad passing away so suddenly, a baby... that's quite a lot to process now that I've bunched it up like that..."

She trailed off with what she was saying as she heard Henry's cry. Dee approached Hermione, with Henry nestled safely in her arms despite the crying. She only had to stand next to Hermione for her to smell the problem.

"Oh, poor Henry," she cooed at the baby. "Let's go upstairs and get you changed in time for Christmas dinner, otherwise, I think you might put everyone off their food!"

Fred chuckled at Hermione's baby-talk before moving to mingle with the other couples on his own, most of which still had a little longer to go before they would get to meet their children for the first time. He briskly made his way over to Charlie who had managed to secure a bit of time off from his work with dragons in Romania. Charlie, having been exempt from the law due to the fact that he was not in the country for the majority of the year, seemed slightly overwhelmed by the sheer increase in family members since he had last visited.

Looking just past Charlie as they were talking, Fred could not help but be slightly amused as Percy's face immediately paled when both Molly and Lucy burst into tears simultaneously. He jiggled Lucy up and down in his arms in an attempt to comfort her, only for her to wriggle about even more in frustration. Audrey managed to calm Molly down in a short amount of time, before shaking her head at her husband's futile attempts to calm the other baby. They swapped children, and soon both were snoozing within their parent's arms.

In the meantime, Hermione had made it back downstairs with a settled Henry within her arms just in time for her mother-in-law to announce that Christmas dinner was served. However, her nose had suspected that this was the case long before the announcement owing to the rich smell of sauces, and meat and puddings that were swirling around, mingling with the warmth of the house.

Eventually the entire clan managed to file through the house, and good-naturedly push and shove their way to their desired seats around the dinner table. Hermione could not help but gasp at the amount of effort that had gone into decorating table, and surrounding area.

With all the Weasley children having left the nest, Molly and Arthur had a considerable amount of spare time on their hands, and a lot more space within The Burrow. In a bout of boredom and inspiration, Arthur had converted a couple of the upstairs bedrooms into a much larger dining area for everyone. The walls had been painted a deep red, and it complemented the dark floorboard perfectly creating a lovely warm feeling within the room.

In place of one long table for everyone to sit at, there were several smaller tables, with one just underneath a window serving as a buffet table. Sitting atop this, there were trays of several types of meat each glistening with their juices, dishes piled high with crisp roast potato, creamy mashed potato, candied carrots, mixed with crisp green beans and peas. Fluffy, beautifully risen Yorkshire puddings were piled on top of one another resembling a small pyramid on the plate.

Knowing that a gravy boat or two would not suffice, Molly had set down several different gravies and sauces resting in pewter pitchers, ready to be poured over the hot food. Hermione's stomach grumbled as she shifted Henry's weight in her arms, wondering how she was going to hold him and eat her own food until she saw that Molly had really thought of everything. She had set up one of the old baby's cribs in the corner of the room for Victoire, Henry, Lucy and baby Molly, so that they would be able to nap whilst the adults enjoyed their food.

Tucking Henry under the blankets, she wandered over to the buffet table and waited in the small queue that had formed in the intervening minutes. Hermione inwardly chuckled as she watched each of the pregnant females pile enough of the delectable food on their plates to rival their husbands'. Thankfully, it did not take long for everyone to find a place and sit themselves down.

The new dining room itself was not the most heart-warming thing for Hermione. She had a newfound respect for all the little homely touches**,** which were so distinctly a part of Molly Weasley. The starched white napkins were obviously handmade and Hermione relished the fact that if she squinted enough, she could see the individual stitches that would have taken Molly hours and hours to complete.

The silver was polished to perfection, and now that there were no children at home to be forced into helping, Hermione knew that it would have taken Molly days to polish enough silver for the members of the family. There was also her own mother, Marian to add to the mix, as well as Luna's father who had also joined the Weasley's for their Christmas celebrations in lieu of spending it alone.

Bottles of elf-wine, butterbeer and fire-whisky were soon interspersed amongst the jugs of pumpkin juice, and the volume of chatter in the room steadily rose whilst the levels of alcohol in bottles decreased.

"I'd like to propose a toast!" Arthur had to shout to be heard over his family. The babbling slowly ceased enough for Arthur to be heard clearly, and heads turned to his direction, waiting to see what was going to be said.

"I'd just like to say a few words, seeing as it's Christmas, and the first time us Weasley's have _all_ been together in a very long time. It has certainly been a year of ups and downs, sometimes more downs than ups, but looking around this room, I can't help but feel that we have stuck together and once again triumphed in the face of adversity."

Raising his glass of elf-wine, Arthur continued to speak.

"So, I would like to propose a toast to... to... to the newest grandchildren of the family – a constant reminder that there is hope for the future when we stick together as a family."

His sentiments were almost immediately echoed around the room, not least by those to which they were directed. In fact, Victoire could distinctly be heard babbling to herself amongst the other babies.

"To the grandchildren!"

Hermione beamed with joy as she put her arm around Fred's waist, and together they raised their glasses to their wonderful family.

_THE END_

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><p><em><strong>I am so excited to have finished this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. How about one last review before you go?<strong>_


	26. Final Quote

_**I like to finish off each story with a short quote which I think summarises the whole thing. This is the quote I have chosen for Legitimement Maries.**_

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><p>Our notion of the perfect society embraces the family as its center and ornament, and this paradise is not secure until children appear to animate and complete the picture.<p>

_Amos Bronson Alcott_

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><p><strong>I would also very much like to thank <em>AllFredWeasley's <em>for being so wonderful and translating all the chapter titles to French. **

**Also I would like to than_k The Weasley Way_ for being such an amazing beta.**

**You guys have done a wonderful job, and I couldn't be happier :)**


	27. Epilogue

**_Here is a little extra information about the characters i.e. their children. I have not planned a sequel at the moment, even though it may look like it from this. All the children are magical, and will attend Hogwarts when they turn eleven. _**

Hermione Granger + Fred Weasley

Henry Frederick

Arthur Gideon

Stella Jean (nicknamed Starfish)

Harry Potter + Ginny Weasley

James Sirius

Albus Severus

Lily Luna

**Adopt Ted Remus Lupin when he is about five years old

Ron Weasley + Luna Lovegood

Heloise Rose

Lysander Cygnus (nicknamed Sandy)

Lorcan Raven

George Weasley + Angelina Johnson

_Children don't have middle names because George and Angelina kept arguing over first names, and did not think they had the strength the argue over middle names as well_

Toby

Roxanne (George wanted to name her Demetria, but the name meant something to do with fertility and Angelina thought that the Weasley family did not need any more fertility)

Myrthe (George wanted to name her Muriel, in memory of the pranks he pulled on his Great Aunt)

Bill Weasley + Fleur Delacour

Victoire Fleur

Dominique Gabrielle

Louis Marcel

Audrey Witnerbourne + Percy Weasley

Molly Georgiana (twin to Lucy; nicknamed 'Lolly' so no one would get confused between her and her grandmother)

Lucy Magdalena (twin to Molly)

Faith Eleanora (nicknamed Fifi)

OTHER COUPLES

Seamus Finnegan + Lavender Brown = Bruno, Viola and Juliet

Neville Longbottom + Hannah Abbott = Alice, Maisie and Annie

Draco Malfoy + Astoria Greengrass = Scorpius (only had one child because they bribed the Ministry)

Dean Thomas + Mharielle Scott (OC) = Tessa, Tahlulah and Tabitha


	28. Sequel?

Hi,

I know that this story is complete, but I was just wondering how many of you would be interested in a sequel?

It would not necessarily be a full story, perhaps a series of one-shots. I have a few ideas which I am a bit keen to flesh out and make into full scenes.

Let me know what you think :)


	29. SEQUEL!

I have the first chapter of the sequel up and ready to read. It is called "Legitimement Maries: Vivre Libre".

As it turns out, I had a few more ideas for a sequel than what I originally suspected ;)

Hope you enjoy it.


	30. I've been nominated!

Hi all, I am excited to let you all know that this fanfic has been nominated for a couple of awards.

* * *

><p>The competition is the 1st Beechwood Fan Fiction Academy Awards, and I have been nominated in two categories:<p>

**1. HP: Best Overall Fic **

**2. HP: Best Fanon**

* * *

><p>It would mean a lot if you would head over to this website to vote and help me win! (take out the spaces)<p>

_**fanfictionawards . weebly nominees . html**_


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